When Darkness Falls
by Nakka
Summary: NOTE! This story will be on hold for some time until I can work out the time to not only come up with later chapters but also rewrite previous ones and organize the story itself a bit better. I apologize for the delays and with time I should finally get this story finis- (is shot)
1. Prolgue Freedom

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: Um... Because I've hit a rather hard wall and the idea well is beginning to grow dry, instead of adding another chapter, I'm going to go in and redo the chapters that are already up. Maybe if I rework the things I have already done, I might come up with an idea for Chapter 7...**

**Do not own Fable or Fable 2**

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"Talking"

_'Thinking'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Nakka Notes]

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**Prologue**

**Freedom was all She Ever Desired...**

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Sea salt wind played through chestnut hair as deep blue eyes stared out into the aquatic horizon. The roar of waves slamming against the rocky cliffs coupled with the lulling rocks against the pier and the soft cries of seagulls echoed in the dusk as a young woman stood upon the semi-rotting planks, her eyes never leaving the distant realm before her. The source of her attention? There... where the sea meld with a sky, a great tower pierced the heavens, defying the very gods. Its walls blacker than the darkest night, its purpose blacker than the void that which spawned the heart of its creator. How many lives had been lost in the construction of such a terrifying structure? How many souls were consumed to fulfill the dreams of one deranged man? How many of them... had been destroyed by her hands?

Those seemingly lifeless blue eyes closed as the screams of the fallen raged in her mind. The ramblings of the insane... the pleadings of the starved... the screams of those who fell under her sword. And for what? To end the tyranny of a crazed man who had killed her not once, but twice.

Twenty years... Twenty long, pain filled years she hunted him down to finally silence the screaming and the roar of the bullets that had destroyed her life. And in the end... she could not even pull the trigger. She could not kill the man that killed so many innocents, including her beloved sister and even her faithful canine companion. She remembered how her hand trembled as she aimed the pistol at his black heart; hate filled tears flowing from her eyes, the pounding of her heart... and the pleading eyes of a madman who wanted nothing more than to embrace the loved ones he had lost so long ago.

But in the end... she could not pull the trigger. No matter how much hatred she harbored towards the man. No matter how much she desired revenge for her sister's death. She could not pull the trigger and end the life of the one that had destroyed hers. For was he not trying to accomplish the one thing that she desired? Did he not share the same desire as she? Maybe that was what stalled her hand. Or perhaps it was the pity she felt for the man that had become a shell of his former self. No... What had stopped her from ending his evil life was the soft, unseen hand that had touched hers, causing her to lower the pistol, and the echoing whisper of her sister's voice.

Twenty years she had desired nothing more than to exact her vengeance on her sister's murderer, only for it to be stolen by another's bullet. But what truly added salt to her already soul deep wounds was the choice she was forced to make in the end. The dark Spire had but one purpose: to grant a single wish. She had the choice of three. To Sacrifice everything she worked for to restore the lives lost in the creation of the Spire, to bring back her Family and everyone she had loved and lost, or to hold an incredible amount of Wealth. Being the kind hearted woman she was, the third choice was out of the question. What tore at her heart most was the choice between her sister or the people she had been forced to kill as she joined the ranks of her enemy to get closer to him.

A silent tear fell from her eyes as she remembered the pain in her heart as she choice Sacrifice. In that whiteness of her wish, she could see her soft smile of her sister and the wagging tail of her companion before they faded from this world forever.

Brushing away her tears, the woman turned around and began to drift towards the small town nearby. If one were to see her, they would have thought of her as a ghost. Her skin had lost its luster over the years and her once vibrant blue eyes where now lifeless and void-like. She herself had become a shell of her former self, just like that man had. She had even grown distant of those who had relied on her. She had become... hollow.

"Mistress Sparrow!" She stopped and turned around as a young man ran towards her. He wore a brilliant white robe with a hood that hid most of his face. He stopped a few feet before her, his chest heaving.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a toneless voice, catching the youth by surprise. Never would he have thought that the woman revered to be the Hero of Albion to sound so cold and emotionless. The youth rubbed the back of his head as her voice caused a chill to run up his spine.

"Um, well. The Temple of Light was wondering if we could employ your services for a most important matter." She could see the sweat form from under his hood as he pointed to an elegant temple standing atop a large hill. It had grown much since the last time she saw it. With an inward sigh, Sparrow began to follow the now somewhat nervous priest. As they walked, Sparrow closed her eyes to hide the growing irritation that flooded her. She had already done so much for the people of Albion, even giving up her only family member so that their loved ones would be reborn. What more did they want from her?

The trip up the hill had become somewhat easier over the years. Marble stairs replaced solid ground and even statues of gods and patrons had been sprouted about the place. The Temple itself had doubled in size, no doubt due to her 'generous' donations she had left them after she had returned from the Spire with Garth. The fact that she had destroyed the Temple of Shadows, their dark counterparts, had a helping hand as well.

"Welcome, Miss Sparrow." The warm voice caused her to snap from her mental ramblings and look to the Abbot. He was younger than his predecessor but less experienced. The priest that had led her to the Temple had vanished, leaving her and the Abbot alone as they discussed business.

"Miss Sparrow, I am sure you are aware of the resent, and relentless, balverine attacks along the Rookridge road lately?" Sparrow had no idea but humored him by nodding her head slightly. "We have lost several priests this month and many traders have also been found dead along the road. Unlike others of its kind, this balverine seems to be killing just for the sport, not for food." His voice trailed off slightly as he began to pace. "The Guards have been able to do nothing to prevent the beast from killing." The Abbot continued to ramble about the untold destruction and danger should she take the job. Sparrow managed to block out most of the conversation [for she heard the same thing ever time she took a job to kill off some monster or bandit] and concentrated on the task at hand.

A balverine that killed not for food, but for sport. While they were human once long ago, balverines were nothing more than animals now, and what animal would kill for sport... other than a cat? Stranger more was the fact that there was a balverine near Oakfield to begin with. The beasts preferred the caves, marshes, and the occasional ruin, not trade routes and populated areas. Something was not right about this one...

"Can we count on you?" the Hero looked up at the Abbot's hopeful face and sighed softly. All she wanted was to go home. She had had enough of the people of Albion coming to her all the time with their problems. However, she could not refuse. With a silent nod of her head, she turned and began to walk out of the Temple. As she did, she heard the Abbot call out. "May the Light of Avo shine upon you, Hero of Albion."

This caused her to pause for a minute and clench her fists. Avo? Where was Avo when she needed him most? Where was he when she was forced to make a choice between her family or the people of the world? She bit down on her tongue to keep her from shouting at the Abbot and walked at a fast pace away from the Temple's shadow, leaving a befuddled Abbot and several confused Priests. As she stormed to kill the balverine, her mind raged. If there were gods in Albion, would they have forced her to choose between her life and the lives of others? Would they have made her Sacrifice all that she had only to be denied the revenge she had longed for for over twenty years? No... There was no Avo. There were no gods in Albion, only the foolish men who created them and forced others to follow their beliefs.

It didn't take long to leave Oakfield, it had always been a small town and most likely it always would be. The road from Oakfield was riddled with weeds and forgotten debris, causing her to pinch her nose in irritation. She had fought so hard for them over the long years, the least they could do was clean up the trade routes a little to make traveling a little easier. As she stepped over one object, her foot would catch another, causing her to stumble. Geez... Did they expect her to clean up after them to?!

"Damn lazy..." Sparrow grumbled as she both heard and felt the crunch of garbage under her boots. The sudden roar of drunken laughter suddenly broke the silence, causing her to stop and drift into the tree line. Moving in the shadows of the thick trees, she began to slowly make her way towards the source of the sounds.

"Dat was da easiest rob we've 'ad in weeks!" shouted one particularly drunk man. A roar of laughter and cheers were soon followed as well as the clank of bottles and mugs. Moving closer, she could begin to make out the flickering of a roaring fire as well as a bundle of bodies moving about erratically.

"Who would 'ave thought that merchants could be so stupid!" chuckled another with a hiccupping voice. Brushing back a few branches, Sparrow gazed at the scene before her. It was a band of bandits, about twenty plus in number, all of which were drunk off their asses and were erupting in random songs while some dancing about the roaring bonfire. Off to the side, she could see a wide assortment of objects ranging from weapons, to books, to rags and spices. Even with the threat of bandit activity and raging balverines, the traders were still careless on the roads. Her eyes moved away from their 'treasure' and scanned across the band itself.

It was a typical band of thieves consisting of drunk, fat men with scruffy clothes and a stench that caused the Hero's nose to curl in disgust. Each one held a mug [and in some cases multiple mugs] of strong ale while laughing and dancing about like a regular pack of drunks. The one thing that stood out was their leader. He was a lean young man that was too clean shaven to be a bandit. And his style of dress was much different than any other she had seen, much cleaner, unlike the hide wearing Thag or the cross-dressing Ripper. But the seat he sat upon really defined him from all others she had encountered, for he sat upon the lifeless bodies of the merchants they had raided, one leg crossed over the other and a smug look on his face as he twirled a dagger in his fingers.

Behind the make-shift throne, Sparrow could see movement and decided to move a little bit closer to get a better look. Making sure to avoid any noise that could give away her position, the young warrior inched closer and closer to their camp, listening to everything going around her.

"But, you know boss..." slurred one man. "Ain't it dagerous... dongerous... DANGEROUS to be 'ere?" The band leader looked to the oaf from the corner of his eye with a rather bored expression. "Wat with da rumors of that balverine running about killing everyone in sight?"

Silence followed the drunk's remark and everything became still. Sparrow was sure she heard the pounding of the drunk's heart as the leader stood up from his bloody throne and slowly walked towards the drunk, a dark smile on his face. "My dear, Rubar." His voice was a dark whisper, causing Sparrow to stop advancing upon the camp and cringe slightly. "You have nothing to fear, for the raging balverine is nothing more than a rumor spread by terrified travelers who jump away from their own shadow."

_'Don't be so sure of yourself...'_ Sparrow thought with a sweat. She had seen many things and if there was one thing she had learned was to expect the unexpected.

"WE are what the merchants should fear, for we are one with the shadows." The tone in the leader's voice made Sparrow think of a certain pistol wielding megalomaniac. The suave man placed a hand on Rubar's shoulder and dipped his head low to whisper in his ear. Sparrow was not able to hear what he said, but whatever it was, it was something dark as evident in the growing eyes of the drunk. Then, before he could react, the dark man, with a smile still planted on his face, pierced the drunk's gut with the dagger he had been twirling in his hands. As the drunk slumped, clutching his now bleeding gut in pain, his attacker moved a step away and slashed at his throat, causing a torrent of blood to gush out and spray across the man.

"Fear and weakness are not tolerated among us!" he shouted to the rest of the band as the body fell to the ground with a loud thud. "Those who question my authority shall only find the sweet kiss of death. Those who cannot become one with the shadows shall be tossed into the void of oblivion."

Cheers erupted throughout the camp and several even began to chant "Nox! Nox! Nox!" over and over again, causing Sparrow to assume that was his name. Fitting... With a snap of his fingers, two semi-drunk men came up and began to drag their now dead comrade towards the cliffs, most likely to toss him out to the sea. As Nox took his place back on his Body Throne, the camp once again erupted in drunken laughter and singing. As they continued their little 'celebration', Sparrow returned to her original thought and began to silently move closer to see what was hidden behind Nox's 'throne.' She was unaware of the dark shadow that loomed above or the blood thirsty eyes that gleamed in the darkness.

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"Damn you to hell!?" hissed Nox in anger, his hands shaking in fury as he bled profusely from several, rather shallow cut all over his body. The bodies of most of his men laid scattered about, either having multiple slash marks or bullet holes in their heads. Sparrow stood several feet away, a black pistol in one hand and a silver katana in the other. Behind her, a group of women huddled close together.

When Sparrow had gotten a better look at what Nox had behind his throne, she had discovered a rather gruesome sight. A group of young women were bound tightly together, their clothes torn and this skin cut and covered in mud. They were the female merchants that they had raided and had apparently been spared only to be the toys of their drunken captors and later sold to the highest bidder in the Slave Auctions.

Not being able to handle the sight before her, she stalked her way closer, using the growing darkness of the night as well as the thick trees to her advantage. When she got close enough, one of the older women saw her and yipped slightly, causing Nox to look over. Sparrow had quickly shifted back into the shadows so that he did not see her. After giving the woman a hard slap against her face, he turned back around and watched his men. Rage began to boil in her soul, as Sparrow watched the cruel man. Waiting several minutes, Sparrow began to crawl towards the bound group, holding her finger against her mouth to tell them to keep quiet. Nodding with hope filled eyes, the young merchants remained as quiet as they could, some even stopped breathing in fear that the dark man would hear their now erratic breathing.

Using a dagger hidden in her boot, she silently cut away at the ropes that bound them and motioned them to crawl towards the forest. One young girl, however, made a beeline towards the trees, earning her the shouts of the drunken men that had saw her. With swift reflexes, Nox spun around and planted a deep dagger right into the girl's spine. The others screamed loudly as their young companion fell to the ground with a gurgle. Pushing the remaining girls behind her, Sparrow instantly stood in front of them, shielding them from the bandits.

The next few minutes seemed to linger on for an eternity. The majority of the band instantly charged towards the now pissed Sparrow, swords raised to lob off her head. However, being sober had a defiant advantage over the drunk. The few that could raise and hold up their guns straight began to fire at the group, causing the women to shout, however, no bullets came near them as a powerful Will infused barrier wrapped around them. Having earned a great amount of Skill herself, Sparrow had no trouble in relieving the shooters of their lives. She even managed to clip their dagger throwing boss several times with his own daggers that she had managed to catch.

And now it was down to two groups: a small number of thieves behind their dark leader and the remaining girls that had not escaped into the forest behind the Hero.

"Those with darkness in their hearts should not live upon these lands." Sparrow's voice was emotionless and cold. Nox snarled, mistaking her coldness for cockiness. Granted she had wasted over half of his men in less than a few minutes and she had released most of his feminine captives, even worst was that she had damaged his ego by striking him with his own daggers, but he would not be had by this... this... WOMAN!

"Get her! Bathe this land with her blood!" he shouted with pure rage. Afraid of what would happen if they denied his command, the remaining bandits charged towards Sparrow. A faint smile played across her lips as she closed her eyes and began to concentrate. The soft blue glow of Will played across her skin as she forced raw energy into the area. As she opened her eyes, she could see notable difference in the surrounding area. Everything around her grew slow, making the bandits look as if they were trying to wade through thick mud. With a silent click of her sword, she sliced at the two closest to her, causing their blood to spray from their necks, rather slowly at that due to the spell. Sparrow then raised her pistol and shot three more right in the head, causing them to fall to the ground instantly.

By the time the Speed Spell wore off, all that was left was Nox and two others. Nox's eyes widened in disbelief. One moment, his men were charging towards her, and the next they were on the ground bathing in their own blood. The two bandits behind him looked at Sparrow with pure fear and even began to slowly step backwards.

"S-she killed them... and we didn't even see it!" stuttered one while dropping his cutlass. Hearing the sudden clank, Nox looked over his shoulder and glared death as the two retreating bandits.

"Take one more step and you will have a lot more to fear than a mere woman." he hissed darkly, causing Sparrow to glare. She had more than proved to Albion and she was more than just a woman. One of the retreating bandits stopped, but the other continued to back away, his head shaking and his eyes glowing with fear.

"B...But she killed them all... She's not human!" Nox turned and was about to shout but stopped. The girls behind Sparrow screamed in fear and Sparrow herself suddenly raised her pistol and took aim at the bandit... or rather above him. The now sober man looked at the combined faces before him and noticed the second bandit take several steps away. "Oh shit... There's something behind me isn't there?" As the words left his chest, something entered it. He gave a gurgled scream as a clawed hand shot through his back and out his chest. As blood sprayed onto the now stunned Nox, the bandit's body was lifted up and chucked to the side, his body slamming into a thick tree with a sickening crack.

"So it came..." said Sparrow with a rather emotionless voice.

"What the fuck is that thing?!" shouted Nox as he took several steps back. The creature was several feet taller than the average man, about six feet if Sparrow had to guess. Its body was lean and covered with thick, mangy fur. It resembled a wolf in features, but also clearly held the resemblance of a man. Its long arm was now covered with fresh blood while its dark grey fur was coating with old blood.

"A balverine..." Sparrow answered while slowly emptying her gun and replacing the bullets with special shells made of pure silver. The clicking of the gun caused the balverine to look over at her with blood filled eyes.

"When I say so, run into the woods and do not stop until you reach town." she commanded to the women behind her, who nodded their heads, never taking their eyes off of the blood drunk creature no more than a few yards away. _'Do not make any sudden movements...'_ she commanded mentally, praying that the two remaining bandits would not do anything stupid and cause her to miss her shot. No such luck, for the moment her mind whispered the prayer, the bandit charged towards the creature with a pathetic war cry, his cutlass aimed to end the beast's life. Snarling darkly, the balverine jumped up with great athletics and reappeared behind the bandit. With one swipe of its claws, the bandit's head fell off of his shoulders and a spray of blood erupted onto the creature.

_Balverines. Creatures of great speed and acrobatics. Once were humans, but then became blood thirsty creatures when bitten by another balverine. Very similar to wolves in nature, they have a keen sense of smell and exceptional vision, even in the dark. Taught the ways of hunting at a young age, these creatures are ruthless and will kill anything that they perceive as a possible threat or meal. _

Sparrow thought back to an old, worn book of the many creature of Albion. All in all... they were considered to be the deadliest of all. Apparently, Nox did not know that much about them and instantly began to throw his remaining daggers at the creature. "Go now." commanded Sparrow as she dropped the shield around the young women. As the balverine knocked Nox away with a powerful blow to the head, the women began to crawl away and into the dark forest. Seeing movement, the balverine snarled and was about to jump towards the retreating figures but was stopped when a silver bullet pierces its shoulder. Howling in pain, it looked to the woman holding a now smoking pistol and growled darkly.

"Over here!" she called out, making sure to keep the beast's attention until the women had enough chance to get to safety. The balverine attempted to jump up, but Sparrow planted a silver bullet into its left leg, causing it to howl once more in pain. "Over here..." she repeated, moving her pistol side to side, making it watch it with dripping fangs. She would keep the beast occupied for a few more minutes so that the girls could get far away before she attempted to truly attack...

"DIE!" A piercing yowl followed after the cry and the balverine turned around and grabbed the now risen Nox by his throat, giving Sparrow a good view of its back. Apparently, once he had regained consciousness, he decided to take matter into his own hands and had stabbed its back with a fallen cutlass.

With its claws firmly around Nox's neck, the balverine turned to look at Sparrow. With a loud growl, it jumped up and took off into the woods, Nox's gargled screams fading away into the night.

"Shit..." the young Hero grumbled before sheathing her katana and taking off after the beast. Whether it was accidental or the byproduct of claws in his skin, Sparrow would never know, but was thankful for Nox leaving his blood behind, allowing her to easily follow the balverine. The fact that the beast did not leave any evidence of its trail [being in the trees helped out in that department] made it especially hard, so Sparrow was rather grateful to the cold, bandit leader.

The trail ended up leading her to an entrance of the old, abandoned mine, one that was not too far from the ruins that were once the Temple of Shadows. Pulling out the dagger in her boot and casting a small Inferno spell on it to make it glow for a small ounce of light, she slowly made her way through the labyrinth that was the old mine, her pistol aiming at anything that moved. The sound of water dripping from the walls, coupled by the deep breathing of the wind was all she could here, and the trail of blood was becoming less visible. Either Nox was running out of blood or the balverine was becoming smarter. Both were possible options and she wasn't about to rule either out.

As she ventured further into the underground maze, the ground became more erratic and the stench of decay became stronger. She soon found herself jumping from one cliff to another, or jumping from a cliff altogether and land on more solid ground with a grunt. It was during these times that she was rather thankful to have the blood of powerful Heroes. Bones that could survive impossible falls have more than proved themselves useful in the past. After about twenty minutes of jumping and climbing, Sparrow found herself on a cliff that overlooked a very large room. It resembled the Howling Halls that a Balverine in disguised had tricked her and Hammer in; only it had several ramps and abandoned mining equipment. Looking down, she saw several ramps and stone pillars slowly leading down to the bottom, the first one being just a jump away.

Putting her dagger back into her boot and holstering her pistol, she turned around and moved a couple of yard away. Once she was at a favorable distance, she turned back around, licked her lips, and charged towards the cliff's edge. As she lifted up off the ground and freefell towards the ramp, a loud roar erupted in the room and she felt something heavy come in contact with her back, forcing her to miss the ramp and fall directly to the ground. As she landed with a loud thud, all the air was knocked out of her lungs causing her to gasp. The feeling of sharp claws piercing her back followed by a low, deadly growl caused Sparrow's heart to stop for a moment.

The damn thing had jumped right onto her back in mid-flight!

Just as the Balverine was about to tear into her throat, she sent a power blast of Lighting at it, zapping it off of her back. As the creature yelped in pain, unwanted memories surfaced in her mind, causing a very long pent in rage to slowly bubble up to the surface.

After the Balverine wiped its snout with the back of its paw, it snarled at Sparrow and lunged once more, claws aimed at the skin of her throat. With fire blazing in her eyes, she raised her pistol and pulled the trigger.

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Sparrow's chest heaved heavily as she slumped to the ground and leaned her still stone back against a stone pillar. A small clank could be heard as she dropped the now very heavy pistol to the ground and allowed her cramping arm some much needed rest. A stinging mixture of blood and sweat trickled down various gashes in her arms, face, and parts of her abdomen causing a very painful burn to overwhelm her. With a shaky hand, she swished the lose strands of hair from her face and gazed at the body that laid no more than five feet away.

The damn Balverine had taken two and a half clips of pure silver bullets plus another half a clip of regular steel bullets before it finally fell to the ground. And it did not go down without a fight, as evident from the claw marks all over her body and the rather nasty bump on the back of her head. She was thankful, at least, that the curse only passed down from predator to pray via fangs, not claws.

With a deep breath, Sparrow pushed herself up and limped over to the Balverine's body. She was amazed how resultant it was. Not many of its species survived more than two silver bullets, but this one took well over a dozen. It wasn't a White Balverine or even a rare Frost Balverine. It was just a plain, ordinary Balverine.

Picking up her pistol and holstering it, she took one last look at the fallen best and turned to walk away. Just as she was about to leave the large area, a small yipping noise paused her step. Turning back around, she watched with a bleeding heart as a small bundle of white fur bound from where ever it had been hiding and nuzzled its larger companion. It pawed at the bleeding mass and Sparrow's cold eyes warmed slightly as she realized just what she had killed.

It wasn't a rabid Balverine that killed for food, territory, or entertainment. It was a Mother doing what she does best: protecting her child. That was why it was killing the merchants and bandits. The trade routes and main roads were far too close to its lair, to its cub. And she killed it.

'_I'm no better than that man...' _she thought darkly. A small yipping caused her to rip from her thoughts. The cub had moved from its fallen mother and bumbled towards the new and strange [at least in its eyes] creature standing nearby. She looked down at it as it pawed her boot in curiosity. It probably had never seen a _live_ human before. With a hard look in her eyes, she pulled her pistol out, clicked a single silver bullet into its chamber, and took aim at the tiny beast playfully pouncing on her boot. As her finger twitched on the trigger, she felt something heavy wash over her, causing her to lessen her hold.

A faint smile played across her lips as she closed her eyes. "I see... Alright, I play by your rules." With that said, she put her pistol up and bent down so that she was semi-eye level with the little pup. "Behave." It tilted its head slightly. With a hesitant hand, Sparrow reached down and gently pat the top of its head, causing it to gruff. The young Hero then stood back up and began to walk away from the area. The pup watched her go bright red eyes and a tilted head.

It took nearly twice as long for her to get out as it did her getting in. By the time she was finally able to breathe fresh air, the moon was well past its zenith and it was only a matter of hours before the dawning light swept over Albion. Taking in a deep breath of the cool, crisp air, Sparrow popped her still slightly sore back and gazed upon the distant glow that was Oakfield. A grim frown pursed across her lips. She really did not want to return to the ignorant praises of the priests and listen to the Abbot praise the light of Avo. Did they really think a god had sent her to them? No... She learned a long time ago if you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself.

With a sharp turn, she turned around and began to walk in the opposite direction. She would let the merchants carry rumors of her success.

Sparrow did not stop walking until she could see the distant glow that was Bowerstone. By then, the moon and stars were beginning to fade and one could make out the golden rays of the sun. With a heavy, tired sigh, she moved off of the road and into the trees. Once she found a suitable spot, she withdrew her katana and slashed at the thick foliage until there was a tiny clearing. She then unstrapped a shovel hidden on her back and began to dig a small hole. After filling it up with dried twigs and the weeds she hacked, she lit up a small fire with Inferno. Once the crackling of flames was heard, she undid the belt that held her weapons and removed her now seemingly heavy backpack. With the weight lifted off her shoulders, she sat down on the cold dirt and moved her pack so that she could lean up against it.

Closing her eyes, Sparrow allowed herself to meld with the earth around her. The soft whispers of song birds began to echo through the trees and the lulling sound of waves crashing against Rookridge's cliffs was relaxing to say the least. The chittering of crickets created a peaceful symphony that meshed with the soft harmony of wind playing through the leaves. The smells weren't bad either. A mixture of sea-salt air with the strong scent of pine cleansed the scent of death and decay from her system.

'_When was... the last time?'_ she thought to herself with a faint smile. It had been ten years since she was able to relax like this, in the days before the Spire. During that time, she had explored every inch that Albion had to offer. From the beautiful lakes of Bowerstone to the dark corruption of Bloodstone. The gentle forests of Brightwood had offered her a sense of comfort while the dark swamps that were Wraithmarsh had struck fear and longing in her soul. Sparrow loved Albion in every way a true Albionite could... she just wished the people were not so demanding and ignorant of everything that transpires in the world.

A sudden rustling abruptly pulled her from her thoughts. On instinct, she picked up her discarded pistol and aimed it at the moving foliage close by. What came out of the dark greenery caused her to blink with a mixture of confusion and surprise. A small bundle of white fur spilled out into her little make-shift camp and a pair of large red eyes stared into her deep blue ones. With a sigh, Sparrow placed her pistol down on the ground and looked at the tiny creature.

"What are you doing here?" The Balverine pup answered her with a yip and a small wag of its little tail.

_What are you doing here? I'm sure I didn't wish for you..._

As Rose's voice echoed in her mind and memories flashed back to the cold winter's night, she sighed and pat the ground next to her. "Alright then... Come here." The pup bounced for a moment before hopping over to her. As it grew closer, it slowed to a cautious walk, its ears flattened down and its tail tucked in-between its legs. It reminded her of Steel whenever he approached something that he was not sure of. Holding out her hand, she allowed the pup to come to her on its own, her eyes never leaving that mouth filled with deadly teeth. Though the poison was not as potent with younger Balverines, it could still cause massive damage to her blood. As it drew closer to her, she reached down and with tender care gently rubbed the top of its head as if it was just another normal puppy.

It growled playfully and tripped to nip at her fingers, but she quickly drew them back and tapped it on the nose. "No." she said sternly. "If you are going to follow me, no biting." She wasn't sure if it knew what she was saying, but it did not make another attempt at her fingers. Turning around, she dug through her pack and pulled out some jerky that she had bought a week back. It was slightly stale, but it was better than nothing. Tearing off a piece, she placed it on the ground in front of the pup before tearing off a piece for her. The Balverine sniffed at the dry meat for a minute and then bat at it to see if it would try to get up and run away. When nothing happened, it pounced and began to tear into it, its sharp fangs shredding the touch meat easily.

Sparrow watched with silent fascination as she chewed her own piece of meat. Looking down at her hand, she shrugged and tossed the remainder of the jerky at the small creature, who happily began to devour it. Once it had finished, it rolled onto its back with a dog-like yawn, its tiny belly bulging slightly from the simple, yet filling meal. With a warm smile, Sparrow tenderly picked up the pup, who yipped lazily, its tail wagging happily. Setting it down on her lap, she gently stroked its rough white fur. With the combination of a full stomach, the warmth of the fire, and the soft caresses of the woman towering above it, it didn't take long before the pup fell into sleeps gentle embrace.

Sparrow's usual cold eyes warmed at the sight before she gazed into the flickering fire. "Is this... what forgiveness feels like?" she asked softly, while touching the warm fur below.

-----

She wasn't sure what brought her to Bloodstone... She wasn't sure why she agreed to a drunk man's request... But what she was sure of, was that she was officially pissed. As another wave of cackling ghost pirates poured into the room, Sparrow raised up her hands and summoned a powerful blast of Lightning while simultaneously firing her pistol.

"Just how many crew members did you have?!" she shouted with anger while zapping and blasting a seemingly endless onslaught of ghosts. She had already fell thirty of the wisp created entities, and there were still more coming. And these were no mere Hallow Men... these were some very pissed off spirits with one very pissed of Captain who held one hell of a grudge against Bloodstone, more specifically its gun slinging mayor [Reaver]. One couldn't blame him though. Sparrow would be pissed if she had gotten shot over a bloody title too.

A loud, roaring laughter echoed through the cavern as another swarm of disgruntled spirits charged the battered Hero. "_The Marianne_ held a crew that could fill that accursed city three times!" roared Captain Dread in a laughter than could make even Lucien cringe. Sparrow believed it too. With all the ghostly pirates swarming around, she was not about to rule out the possibility of there being a large number of them.

Grunting in silent frustration, Sparrow shot down several specters and then concentrated her Will to force their bodies to rise back up. As the now loyal spirits began to attack their own comrades, Sparrow pulled out her silver katana and began to slash at the bodies surrounding her. Before long, the messy dining chamber was completely emptied, save one exhausted Hero and a few lingering spirits that wafted about before they too faded away.

"Ye ain't bad, little girl!" cackled Dread's undead voice. "Ye'll make a fine addition to my undead crew!" This was followed by another bought of semi-insane laughter. Once the laughter died away, Sparrow groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose as she felt a pounding headache arise. The moment she stepped foot in the dark cavern and dove over 500 feet into icy cold water, that laughter followed her like the plague. With a heavy sigh, Sparrow flung her katana so that it rested on her shoulder and made her way deeper into the cavern. As she slashed at several more ghosts, she began to think just why she was here in the first place.

As said before, she wasn't entirely sure just what drew her to sinful city that was Bloodstone. Maybe it was for a change of scenery, or perhaps it was to evade the over praising villagers and priests. Most likely, thought, it was because Bloodstone was one of the few remaining places in Albion were she did not have to hear "Avo be praised, the mighty Hero has arrived to save our souls!" While visiting the pub, she overheard an old man prattle on of ghosts and buried treasure. Being the bored Hero at the moment, Sparrow had humored him, bought him a drink and listened to his tale.

The story itself was more of a legend among the people of Bloodstone. And epic tale of a mighty Pirate King, his crew of hundreds, and the fabled _Marianne. _A hundred years ago, Captain Dread had been the most feared pirate to sail the seas of Albion. Those who were left in his wake, were either dead or suffered horrible losses. No port was safe from his reign and it was said that he had collected enough treasure to fill the bottom of Bower Lake. But like all humans, his reign came to an abrupt end on a cold summer night. While caught in a raging storm out at sea, a lone bullet rang out over the thunder and planted itself firming in between the feared Pirate King's eyes. With his death, _The Marianne_ sunk to the bottom of the sea along with her crew.

From the M.O. alone, Sparrow knew where the lone bullet had come from and why Reaver was known as the Pirate King now.

After a few more beers, Salty Jack claimed to have seen the ghostly vision that was Dread wandering about the entrance of The Sinkhole [though he had also confessed to be drunk and in the arms of an equally drunk whore]. He tried following, but was meet with a death racking plummet and insane laughter of a long dead man. He claimed that he had caught a faint glimpse of a floating structure and was sure that it was the risen _Marianne_. After a few minutes of pleading and bargaining, Sparrow agreed to venture into The Sinkhole and see what lied beyond the plummet. And should she find Captain Dread's fabled treasure, she was to bring it back so that he could show it to everything that thought him a crazy, old man. He also claimed that should she succeed, she would forever become a legend among the Pirate Court.

And now, here she was. Mucking through a rather foul smelling cave and fighting off a hoard of angry spirits while trying to find a way to board _The Marianne_. One thing was for sure... she was going wop Jack a big one over the head for all of this mess. After climbing up a rather steep set of stairs, Sparrow was met with a rather elegant room. Granted it was dusty, moldy, and rodent infested, but it was elegant none the less. The room consisted of a large bed, a desk covered with a wide assortment of papers and maps, a dresser, and a large, locked chest.

With no ghost in sight, Sparrow tucked her pistol into her belt and moved to desk. Shifting through all the tattered and torn papers, she discovered most of them were lists containing locations, times, a number, and then a percentage. Some of the cities that were listed, she had never even heard of. After scanning several more papers, she concluded that they were most likely lists of previous hits. Digging further into the desk, she discovered a rusty old key. Eyeing it, she looked back to the locked chest. For a former Pirate King... Dread sure did leave things out in the open.

Shrugging, Sparrow clicked the lock and pushed the rusted and rotten lid back. "What the...?" Reaching down, she pulled out a dark lever. Eyeing it for a moment, she tucked it into her pocket and made her way out of the room. She remembered some kind of a mechanical device back at the pier.

"This cave shall be yer grave, little girl!" taunted the undead Captain once more, causing Sparrow to growl in frustration.

"Shut up, Dread!" she yelled back while making her way towards the pier. "I've had just about enough of you."

This was followed by another bout of insane laughter. Ignoring the cackling, Sparrow slowly made her way across the semi-rotten planks that led upwards towards a rusted mechanism. Pulling out the lever, she wedged it in its respective spot and pulled. The loud grindings of gears soon followed and a large stone slab extended out from the pier and close to the haunted ship.

"No! The Marianne is mine! Ye shall not have her!" Dread's voice had changed from insane and overconfident to fear and aggressive. Pulling out her pistol, she moved over to the extended slab and jumped from the stone and onto the deck of the ship. As she did, a large group of ghosts appeared and Captain Dread stood by the wheel, his ghostly arms folded over his chest and a dark grin playing across his lips. "Welcome aboard, little girl. Get her boys!"

By their captain's command, the undead crew charged.

A faint smile played across Sparrow's lips as she forced her Will to bend the air around her. With a sharp flash, Sparrow reappeared on the deck of the forecastle, much to the surprise to the spirits. "You are going to have to do better than that." she taunted. The crew snarled and charged up the ramps leading up to her. Weaving her hands together, the Will lines on her skin began to glow and sparks of lightning flashed between her fingers.

Just as the ghosts were upon her, she sent a powerful blast of lighting around her, sending them flying this way and that. As they burst into a shower of Wisp particles, another group of spirits rose up from under the ship's deck. "Ah geez... Why the hell did ONE ship need this many crew members?" she grumbled with a small pout. Tapping her pistol against her head, she sighed and began to fire down at the spirits. The ones that managed to dodge her bullets and move upwards were met with either her blade or her lightning. All the while, Captain Dread laughed his ass off and then waved his arm. Two large men appeared on either side of him, each carrying sniper-like riffles. With dark grins, the snipers took aim and shot.

Hearing the blasts, Sparrow dodged just enough so that the bullets did not hit anything important, however she did not escape unfazed as one planted itself in her left shoulder and the other in her right thigh. Grunting in pain, she glared at the shooters and sent a blast of fire at them. As the quarterdeck erupted into flames, Dread vanished and reappeared atop the main mass. He growled softly as Sparrow made short work of his men via a flurry of bullets, magic, and steel. She reminded him too much of the man that had stolen his life and title.

Before long, the entire deck was covered with glowing white specks and no more ghosts appeared. Blood trickled down the wound scattered about her body and the bullet holes in her should and leg were beginning to burn like hell. Her breath was ragged and her Will lines glowed brightly from every spell she had conjured. Groaning in pain, she let her arms hang down as she drank in the air greedily.

Suddenly, a gust of wind lifted up the exhausted Hero until she was eye level to the smirking Dread. "I must say, ye are more resilient that I first thought. But let's see if ye can handle this!" He then swung his arm and Sparrow found herself plummeting hard towards the ground. With a yelp, she quickly forced the air around her to swirl and lessen her fall. Though... not by much. As she slammed against the wood of the deck, she could feel something in her back pop rather painfully as splinters of rotten wood dug through her shirt and into her skin. Groaning, she got up to her feet and glared up at the laughing Captain.

"Why you...!" raising her pistol, she began to shoot wildly at the mass where Dread stood. He laughed as he jumped away from the bullets but then snarled as they ripped apart his precious ship's sails.

"You little harlot!" he growled darkly as he pulled out his own large [and rather deadly looking] pistol. "Ye shall do no more damage to _The Marianne_!" He sent several rounds in her direction. However, unlike the others, these blasts seemed to have a touch of Will infused in them for when they came down they came down hard and powerful. Rolling out of the way, Sparrow shot several more shots his way. While most passed by him harmlessly, some managed to clip the edges of his glowing body.

The two continued this little game of 'tag' for several minutes before Dread completely vanished. Her pistol raised and her eyes darting about, Sparrow tried to find the vanished undead Captain. A sudden sharp pain pierced through her shoulder as Dread appeared behind her and dug his cutlass into her skin. Snarling, Sparrow quickly drew out of her blade and swung, forcing Dread to remove the rusted metal from her arm. Sparks flew as blade met blade, each trying to overpower the other.

"This had turned out more entertaining than I first thought." smirked Sparrow as she held back Dread's sword. An exciting glow emitting from her lifeless eyes as she battled for dominance over the ghost. Dread smirked and pushed his sword harder against her katana, causing her to take an involuntary step back. Raising his gloved hand, he sent a powerful blast of wind towards her. Forcing the Will around her, her body flashed as she took a powerful leap backwards to avoid the Vortex and reappearing on the quarterdeck. A dark smirk played across her lips as she gently ran her hand across the wooden wheel.

"It's a nice ship you got, Dread..." she taunted in a somewhat dark, seductive tone.

This caused Dread to flare up with rage. Nobody touched _his_ _Marianne_. Nobody!

With a snarl, Dread charged and jumped up high, his blade to slice her in half. Raising her hands, four spiritual blades began to dance around her. With a wave of her hand, the blades shot forward towards the specter, each one digging into one of his limbs. The sudden force caused his leap to be diverted so that he landed right back on the deck with a painful slam. Groaning, he tried to get up but found that each Will created blade had pierced right through his body and then dug into the thick wood of the deck, pinning him down. He tried to evaporate and reappear elsewhere, but a powerful boot slammed against his chest. Looking up, his dark eyes met with glowing blue as well as the gleam of a pistol aimed at his head.

"Game over, Dread. I win." Her voice held such a coldness that even Reaver would shiver. Dread tried once more to vanish, but the blades in his arms and legs dug deeper, breaking his concentration. With a faint smile, Sparrow raised her pistol slightly and pulled the trigger. The blast echoed rather painfully through the cave as well did Dread's death cry. As his ancient spirit faded away, Sparrow's foot slide through and gently hit the deck's wood and the four energy blades vanished. With a sigh, Sparrow sat down on the ground and allowed her pistol and katana to drop to the ground. Wincing in pain, she moved her arms around enough to slide her backpack off of her shoulders and gently sat it on the ground.

The moment she did, a little bundle of white fur rolled out. The little creature tried to stand up on its legs, but quickly toppled over as a wave of dizziness overcame it. It tilted its head slightly and gave Sparrow the closest thing to a glare it could create. The Hero laughed lightly.

"Sorry, Sylver. But I had to keep you in there so that you wouldn't get hurt." she said with a small, almost sheepish smile. The little Balverine gave a wolfish sigh and allowed his still disoriented body to slump onto the cool wood of the deck. Sparrow sat there for several minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet as the soft waves of the sea gently rocked the boat. Her body was sore all over and the areas where she was shot burned with a fury. She was going to have to dig those out later. With a sigh, she got back up to her feet and slowly made her way to the quarterdeck, her hand gripping at the railing to keep her from falling over. Once up there, she gently ran her hand over _The Marianne's_ wheel once more. As she did, she felt a small surge of power flow from the wheel and into her hand.

The ship then suddenly lurched forward, its sails flowing in an invincible wind as it crept from its cavern port. This caught Sparrow by surprised and she instantly clung to the wheel tightly as if she was about to fall off. It then hit her. Though without its ghostly crew, the ship itself was still somewhat of a Ghost in itself as it had sank to the bottom of the sea when Reaver had killed Dread the first time. As _The Marianne_ spilled out into the open sea, Sparrow flinched slightly at the sudden flow of light. Once her eyes adjusted to the sun filled sky, she looked out into the gentle sea and felt something swell inside of her.

A blissful joy began to grow inside the pit of her soul. No having a feeling like this in a long time, it felt foreign to her, almost alien. However, before long, a gentle smile played across her lips and the long lost glow in her eyes began to slowly creep back. Hearing a small thump, she looked down at the deck and watched with amusement as Sylver stalked and pounced on a Wisp, which vanished and caused the pup to slide on the deck. As it looked back up at her with a surprised yip, Sparrow chuckled and looked back out at the sea.

"Maybe it's time... for a new beginning."

And in that moment... Sparrow knew what Freedom was...

-----

**CE: Alright! First chapter redone and uploaded. Fixed a few errors I managed to come across as well as added a few extra details. I may not be good at fighting scenes, but I am rather proud of the scene with Dread ^_^**

**JA NE**

**[Goodnight]**


	2. Chapter 1 Return

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: Alright! Second Chapter [well technically it's Chapter 1] edited and reposted!**

**I DO NOT OWN THE FABLE SERIES!!!**

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"Talking"

_'Thinking'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Nakka Notes]

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**Chapter 1**

**Return to a Corrupted World...**

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Ah, Bloodstone!

Truly a city of sinful pleasures and delights. And by god, Reaver missed it so. Even though Samarkand had truly been a land of exotic and interesting amusements [especially with all those lovely half naked women running about], Bloodstone held his heart true and firm. As he gracefully stepped off of his new ship _The Elegance,_ he breathed in the scent of home. Even after ten years of being away, Bloodstone still had the scent of cheep perfume, old ale, and marshy sea air. To most people, this nauseous mixture would cause their noses to curl in disgust. But to Reaver, it was simply divine.

Gingerly making his way across the semi-rotten planks of the pier, he began to walk elegantly through the dark streets and towards his long awaiting 'costal paradise'. After ten years of being away, it would be nice to retreat into the familiar feel of his cozy little mansion with some lovely _company_. As made his way through the city, the women squealed in delight and some even went so far as to faint when he winked in their direction. This caused a growing smirk to place across his pompous face. Not much had changed at all.

Well... that was not entire true. There were several changes that he easily noticed. For one, the buildings had been remodeled so that they no longer looked as if they were about to crumble in a split second. Another was that the streets looked much cleaner than he had left them. Where there was once beer bottles, piles of vomit, and dried blood had been replaced with clean, clear streets. But the most notable change was the tower in the center of the town. It was raised high enough to look over the buildings and out at the sea. There were two men standing up at the top and there was a large bell hanging from the top.

Humming in curiosity, Reaver continued to make his way to his mansion. As he approached it, he noticed that it too had undergone some changes. Where there was once a fenced wall had been replaced with a small garden and a large willow tree towered on the other side of the mansion, a small swing hanging from one of its thick branches. So... someone _had_ bought his costal paradise, even despite the very clear note he had left stating that he would most likely plant a bullet in their skull once he returned. This caused his grin to widen slightly while pushing the gate open and sliding into the area. It had been a long time since he killed someone to take back what was his.

With a small hum, he pulled out his beloved Dragonstomper .48 from its holster and walked up the stairs that led to the large oaken door. Drawing closer, he noticed that the mansion was dark and silent. Perhaps the unlucky bastard had stepped out. Either way, Reaver raised his free knuckle and rasped loudly on the door.

Several minutes passed and not a sound was made. He knocked once more, but still silence was his answer. With a frown, he pound on the door in a demanding way, but still there was nothing.

Just as he was about to blast the door down, a low chuckle emitting from behind. "Even after ten years, you haven't changed a bit, Reaver." Turning around abruptly, Reaver was met with a familiar face. It was a man in his mid thirties to early forties. His head was bald and he had a dark tattoo over the left half of his face.

"Norman?" Reaver said with mild surprise. Of all the people he had expected to see, his old 'butler' was not one of them. The man smiled widely, revealing semi-rotten teeth.

"Good to see you back again, sir." Reaver noted that his previous thuggish accent had been replaced with that of a well aged man's. "Much has changed in your absence, as I am sure you are already aware of."

"Yes." He placed his pistol back into its holster and then crossed his arms over his chest. "I've noticed them. Come, come now, Norman. You must tell me all that has happened. Starting with who lives in my mansion."

Norman's smile faded and a wave of unease washed over him. Rubbing the back of his bald head and digging the tip of his foot in the ground, he thought over his words very carefully. "Well... I'm afraid I can't, sir." Reaver raised an eyebrow, making Norman all the more nervous. "She gave explicit instructions not to reveal her name to you should you return."

She? So, the person that bought out his home and 'cleaned up' Bloodstone was a woman... A woman that _knew_ him but did not want to be _known_ by him. Reaver gently tapped his chin as he felt a small headache form. He had hoped to be done with this business, have tea, and be in bed with several lucky whores before the sun set. But now, it didn't look like that would happen. "Norman... Need I remind you what happens to those who disobey me?" he said somewhat darkly while tapping the surface of his pistol.

Norman felt his mouth grow dry and he swallowed hard. He knew all too well what happened to those who disrespected the Skillful Hero. However... he also knew that SHE would do if she discovered he didn't follow her instructions. With that memory firm in his mind, Norman looked at Reaver with hard eyes. "I'm sorry, sir... But I would rather race your pistol as point blank range than suffer the wrath of my Mistress."

This sudden retaliation caused Reaver to pinch the bridge of his nose. He wanted to plant a firm bullet in the aged man's head and be done with it, but he had the creeping feeling that he was going to need ever bullet he had for this _Mistress_ woman. "Can you at least tell me where she is?"

"That I can, sir." Reaver instantly perked up. "The Mistress has been away on... business. However, her ship should be arriving any minute now. I was on my way to welcome her when you arrived. Follow me and I'll tell you what has happened in the ten years of your absence."

Seeing not much else to do, Reaver complied and followed Norman as he led them back towards the docks. Along the way, Norman explained that not too long after he left, the Mistress appeared and bought out his mansion without hesitation, even despite the note he had left. In fact, he said that he watched her crumble the note, toss it into the fire, and laughed rather hauntingly. Soon after, she began to circulate a large amount of gold around the city to rebuild everything that had been labeled as 'condemned.' She had, apparently, made sure that everything had a warm place to sleep and warm clothes to wear, even if they didn't have the gold to pay for it. However, with her kindness also came a sense of cruelty. Apparently, she had a very low tolerance towards certain crimes and if said crimes were performed, the culprit[s] would be dwelt with quickly and harshly. Often in the form of being tossed in the middle of Wraithmarsh.

Norman said that she had the philosophy: If you can make it back alive, you can live a little longer.

And if the crime was severe, she would either plant a bullet in the person's head or simply chop it off. Because of this, Bloodstone had eased up on its crimes and had become cleaner. If one was to ask anybody that lived there, they would have said that they would have preferred this over having Guards running about, which she also threatened to do if they didn't ease up.

"And what of this?" asked Reaver as he gently ran his hand down the wood of the tower as they reached the center of town. Norman stopped and looked at what he was talking about before smiling.

"Ah, yes. The Tower." he started. "It was one of the Mistress' first projects. It's designed solely for security. Two men are always inside, one keeping an eye on the sea and the other watching Wraithmarsh. If there is danger coming from the sea, they ring the bell once. If something wanders in from Wraithmarsh, they ring it twice. And when _The Marianne_ arrives, they ring it three times."

"_The Marianne_?" Why did that name sound so familiar?

"Aye, the Mistress' personal ship. We make sure that the people know of her arrival so that nobody panics at the sight of her... ah... crew."

Before Reaver could ask just what the hell Norman was talking about, he heard the men above him shout something out. One of them grabbed a scope and looked out at the sea while the other grabbed the rope that would ring the bell. The first man waved his hand and the second man began to pull. Three times the bell echoed through Bloodstone. Norman smiled and turned back towards the docks. The distant image of ship began to slowly make its way towards the pier.

"Ah, right on time." As his house keeper began to walk away, Reaver smiled coldly and followed him. Finally he would meet this Mistress woman and be able to shoot her, move back into his mansion, and take back his city. Well... If it was an attractive woman he would seduce her, bed her, and then shoot her. Yes... Everything was beginning to finally tip in his favor. "By the way...." Reaver looked over to Norman, who stared out towards the approaching ship. "Don't be alarmed when you see her companion. He can be a bit... intimidating."

Reaver raised an eyebrow as his pistol hand twitched in agitation. Just what was it going to take to get a decent, whole answer from this man?! He _really_ wanted to pop a slug in the man's head but resisted the urge and watched with growing anticipation as the ship moved closer at a rather fast speed. As it crept closer, Reaver began to notice several things odd about this ship. For one, its sails looked tattered and torn and looked like they could not possibly hold onto the wind. Another was that its haul had several large gashes and holes making it defy the laws of physics. The third and final was the crew... or rather, the lack of it.

A ship of that size would have to have a crew of at least thirty to forty to pilot. But this ship had none. All it had was a jumping shadow that leapt from mass to mass. When it finally reached the port, it creaked rather loudly before stopping.

'_How did a ship in this shape stay on top of the water?!'_ thought Reaver with a slight gap in his jaw. Norman, however, looked as if this was perfectly normal. A low growl ripped Reaver from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw a large shape jump from rope to rope before standing atop the main mass in perfect balance. Looking closer, the shadow held the shape of a man and a wolf. Its ruffled white fur glowed against the setting sun and its red eyes glared down at the pirate below. Reaver's cold eyes widened in growing fear as he realized just what stared down at him.

"A Balverine?!" Reaver quickly pulled out his pistol causing the beast to snarl rather darkly. Before he could pull the trigger, another shot rang out and a skillful bullet bounced off the side of his gun. Hissing in pain as hit sparks flew onto his hand, he glared and began to try to find the source of the bullet.

"It would be in your best interest to leave my companion alone, Reaver." called out an all too familiar voice. Looking further up, he saw a tall, lean figure standing atop the crumbling figurehead. It was a woman with short chestnut hair and bright blue eyes that gleamed with a deadly mirth, which paralleled the glowing that lined her body. In one hand she held a rope so that she could lean over casually and in the other was a smoking pistol. Reaver's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he recognized the woman.

"Sparrow?" The woman smiled and jumped off of the figurehead's head, using the rope she held to swing herself down in front of the Hero of Skill. This forced Reaver to take a couple steps back in shock, allowing him to get a good look at Bloodstone's newest owner. Her hair had been cut short and its chestnut color had been bleached slightly by the sun. Her blue eyes glowed brightly along with the faint glow of Will lines that wrapped around her now slightly tan body. But that was not the reason why his kept staring in a rather unnatural, speechless manner. Nor was it for the fact that even though ten years had passed since he last saw her, she didn't look a single year older.

No... The reason he could not stop staring was because the innocent and prudish [at least in his opinion] Sparrow was wearing practically nothing at all!

Her once fully clothes form was now in a tightly wrapped corset, a pair of shortly cut pants, a sleeveless torn cape, fingerless gloves, a pair of mismatched boots [one that rose up her to knee and the other barely went past her ankle], and a pirate style hat with a single, multicolored feather. All of which had been died black and silver edging. He also noticed the rather large arsenal that she carried. Twin daggers were shoved in her ankle boot, two dark pistols were tucked in her belt, a gleaming katana and a large blunderbuss were strapped to her back, and he could faintly see something shinning from her hat. And knowing Sparrow, she most likely had several more weapons stashed out of sight.

And for some reason, that thought made Reaver's mouth run dry.

After a few minutes of smiling, Sparrow smiled mischievously. "You really shouldn't stare, Reaver dear." Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts and forced him to look her in the eye. She had nearly become as tall as he was. "It makes a girl uncomfortable." Gently slapping his arms a couple of time, she turned back to the ship and gave a sharp whistle. The large Balverine jumped up and landed down by his master, giving Reaver a dark growl.

"What the hell, Sparrow?!" he shouted while aiming his pistol at the large beast. Frowning, Sparrow reached over and lowered his pistol with her finger.

"Oh, don't be such a pansy, Reaver. Sylver is just a fluffy, cuddly puppy." she cooed while wrapping her arms around his thick, ruffled neck. As it gave the wolf equivalent of a purr, Reaver began to stutter.

"T-That thing is not a 'fluffy, cuddly puppy!'" he growled while tightening his hold on his pistol. Sylver saw this and snapped at the Pirate King, who jumped away and glared at the now laughing Sparrow.

"You need to learn how to relax." she purred while standing up and walking past him. "You're too tense. Norman!" She held out her arms and embraced the snickering man. "Come, come! You must tell me all that has happened in my absence!"

"Well, miss Sparrow. A few demons came in from the Marsh and there were a few minor problems sea wise..."

As they walked off, Sylver jumped off of the streets and followed them from atop the buildings, leaving a speechless Reaver behind. He was shocked that it had been Sparrow who had bought out his city. But more importantly, she had the audacity to use HIS words! As a thousand questions began to rage in his mind, Reaver felt his headache return with a vengeance.

Sparrow was the town's _Mistress_? SHE was the one that had bought HIS coastal paradise?! He had expected it to have been either one really drunk man or a noble with the idea of refurbishing, much like what had happed to Westcliff. It would have been easier to shoot one of them, but since it was Sparrow, all ideas of killing her had plummeted down to the pits of what was left of his soul. Not because she had removed whatever was shoved up her ass, nor was it because of her new tastes in clothes. Hell, it wasn't even for the fact that even after ten years, she didn't have a single gray hair or winkle upon her face.

No... It was because of her newest mutty companion. No matter how much he wanted to shoot her, he knew it was going to be nearly impossible with that creature in the way. He had a hard enough time threatening her with that normal dog following her every move. But with a White Balverine becoming her shadow, he knew would not even be able to _think_ about killing her without having claws digging into his gut. And even though he was extremely skilled with his pistol, killed a Balverine in one shot was a feat that not even he could perform flawlessly.

"GAH! Just what in the hell happened while I was away!" he shouted while clutching his hair. He would have ripped it out if it weren't for the fact that it would severely dampen his good looks, thus slashing at his overly large ego. With a growl, he followed after the Hero of Albion, who had ducked into the pub.

"Barron! A round to everyone, on me!" she shouted while walking in. Cheers erupted as well as shouts of 'hello's and 'welcome back's and what-not. As the barmaids began to pass out free drinks to everyone, Sparrow sat down at the bar and grinned as Reaver stomped in and towards her. As he grabbed her upper arm and forced her to look up at him, he growled with dark eyes.

"I have questions and I expect answers. Now!"

"What's to explain, Reaver?" she chuckled devilishly as a malice-filled growl echoed from the shadows and a pair of red eyes flashed, forcing Reaver to let go. Sparrow moved back to the bar and began to play with a dagger that she had pulled out from her cape. "After the whole mess with Lucian and the Spire, I found myself wandering about, thinking of what to do. After his death, Albion came to a standstill and even with the occasional bandit attack, assassin attempt, or Hobbe infestation, I became bored. Every day seemed to repeat itself and every time it did, I felt a little of myself die." As Barron placed a mug of soft ale in front of her, she placed her arms on the bar's counter and rested her head in her hand while twirling a finger in its foam. As she licked off her finger, Reaver once again felt his mouth grow dry.

"I'm not sure why, but I found myself in Bloodstone one day and after listening to a possibly insane drunk, I found myself fighting a large number of ghost pirates so that I could find some ancient treasure." A small smile played across her lips as she took a swig at her ale. "The thrill of commanding a pirate's ship was the kick that I needed and I soon found myself doing what you do best. I must say, Reaver, piracy is more fun than I thought it would be. And I must say, despite the sordid city surrounding it, you have quite the cozy little hovel."

Sparrow suddenly whirled about and hopped off the stool. "Speaking of which, come to the mansion later tonight. You and I have some business to attend to. Until then, enjoy the fruits of my fair city." With a laugh and a wave of her arm, he left the tavern leaving an uncharacteristically speechless Reaver. All of this was almost too much for his simple mind to grasp. Not only had the righteous Sparrow become a pirate, but the first thing she had taken was his home! And she didn't stop there. She had also taken his town, his people, and [more importantly] his pride!

After several minutes of sitting there in silence, a low growl became louder before it became in infuriating cry. As he stormed out of the tavern and towards his mansion, Barron chuckled as a barmaid began to clean up the mess he made.

"Poor, Reaver. He has no idea who his dealing with, does he?" she asked with a smile.

"Nope." chuckled Barron while cleaning a mug. "Sparrow's changed in the ten years since they met. She's not the innocent girl she once was." As he said this, a small glow flashed in his eyes. As it died away, he began to whistle a cheerful tune while pouring more mugs and passing out more bottles of beer.

-----

**CE: Meh.. not so much has changed other than a few errors and a couple of added sentences.**

**JA NE**

**[Goodnight]**


	3. Chapter 2 Business

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: Ohhh! I found a new addiction! AriZona Green Tea and Lemonade, Half and Half ™ !!! Only 50 calories and 13g of sugar! GOD IT'S SOOOO GOOD!!! I end up drinking like five a day! [drinks can number three] Ahhhhhh!**

**No ownage...**

-----

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Nakka Notes]

-----

**Chapter 2**

**Business Can Be a Deadly Game...**

-----

Reaver growled with deadly ambition as he stormed up towards _his_ mansion. To anyone that he passed along the way, the pirate appeared more than livid. He had ever right to feel this much fury and hatred. After all, it's not every day a woman comes in and practically steals everything you once had and then rubs it in your face. And Sparrow had done just that. Balverine be damned, he was going to _kill_ Sparrow the moment he saw her.

As he bulldozed his way through the gates, Norman smiled as he met him at the front door. "Where is she?" hissed Reaver as he pulled out his pistol. Norman mentally chuckled and shook his head before opening the door.

"She's in the study. She's been waiting for you." Ignoring the man's words, Reaver pushed him aside and stomped into the mansion. Though he did not notice it, the inside of the mansion looked exactly the same as he had left it, side from a few hanging trophies and pieces of art. Not even bothering to knock, he practically kicked the door open and entered the study. The study, unlike the rest of the house, had undergone some rather hefty changes. The desk had been moved so that it faced the door and most of the bookshelves had been rearranged so that more shelves could be squeezed in. There were maps tacked onto the walls and over in the backmost corner were what looked like to be a weapon stands that held all sorts of exotic swords, guns, crossbows, and hammers.

"Ah, Reaver." chimed Sparrow as she sat at her desk with a large pile of paperwork. "Come on in. To what so I owe this _gracious_ visit?"

Reaver growled and aimed his pistol at her. "Don't play innocent, Sparrow. You know exactly why I am here."

Sparrow chuckled and placed her head in her hand while looking at him with mischievous eyes. "Reaver dear... If that was all you had wanted, then all you had to do was but ask. No need to go about threatening lives and destroying doors." The arrogant tone in her voice caused Reaver to twitch. How dare she?! How dare she be so smug with herself right in front of him inside his own house?! Growling in rage, Reaver aimed at Sparrow's head and fired. Before either of the two could react, a white blur shot through the room.

Reaver stood shocked as a man appeared out of nowhere. He was a tall one, about six and a half feet and was rather lithe for a man. He had long white hair that flowed wildly over his shoulders, which contrasted greatly with his blood red eyes that bore into Reaver's with a mixture of rage and irritation. And in between his clawed fingers was the bullet meant to take Sparrow's life.

"Ah, thank you, Sylver." Sparrow said cheerfully. But even though she put up a positive persona, she was an absolute wreck. She knew that she could press her luck only so much with Reaver before it ran out. Reaver himself stood gawking at the tall man blocking him from Sparrow. He didn't see or hear him in the room and then sudden he shows up and _catches_ his bullet!

Wait a minute... Did she say 'Sylver?' Wasn't that the same name as her Balverine mutt? Thinking back he recalled something he had read in a book a long time ago. Mature Balverines had the ability to shape shift into a more human form so that they could lure human prey back to its lair with ease. This man _was_ the Balverine named Sylver. Having confirming this, Reaver lowered his pistol and glared at the woman who sat smugly at _his_ desk, in _his_ house, within _HIS_ city!

"Now, now. Don't give me that look, Reaver." Her smugness became mischief, which put the Skillful Hero at edge. "It's your own fault for putting you costal paradise up for sale." She began to scribble her signature on several papers, approving or disapproving changes for the city. Though she was not sure what the consequences would be once Reaver found out she had bought his house, she was actually quite grateful that she took the risk. Because of this, not only did she discover a new type of life and some very interesting things about the original homeowner, she had also developed quite the governing skills. Skills that she was sure that would come in handy once she left Albion to explore the rest of the world.

"You've read my note, have you not, Sparrow? Upon my return, I take back what is mine. I always have and I always will. And I will be damned to the blackest abyss if I let some woman change that?!" Reaver's voice grew louder until it was a half yell, half snarl. He even took several threatening steps forward, causing Sylver to give a dark growl and attempt to lunge at the prideful male. However, Sparrow quickly got up and placed a gentle hand on Sylver's chest. Stopping, the tall man looked down at the cheerful Hero and took a few steps back.

Turning her attention to the steamed Reaver, Sparrow began to slowly make her way towards him, making sure to move her hips slightly. "Now, Reaver dear..." her voice was gentle purr that caught Reaver by surprise. "There's no need to raise your voice so much." She began to circle him, gently running her hand across his back, sides, and stomach as she did so. Her gently touch made Reaver's body become ridged. Never would he have expected _this_ from _her_. The Sparrow he knew was righteous, distant, innocent, and repressed. For the love of Avo, she had been the only woman to reject his advances! So... Where in the hell did this new, darker, more tempting Sparrow come from. A part of him liked being touched like this by the one woman who hated his guts, but another part was somewhat fearful. She would not be doing this unless she had something planned.

Watching Reaver squirm slightly, she stopped moving behind him and pressed her body against his. She wound her arm around his neck so that he was forced to look back at her and her free hand gently stroked the side of his face. "Now... Why don't you do me a big favor, Reaver dear..." Her voice became low, forcing Reaver to move just a little bit closer so that he could hear her. As he did, her smirk widened and her Will lines began to glow softly. "And go dancing in Bloodstone like an idiot."

Before his mind could wrap around her words, a soft purple glow emitted from both her hand that was touching his cheek and her eyes. He suddenly felt his mind become numb and his own eyes began to glow. As the light faded away, Reaver's dark eyes became a purple color and his body relaxed completely. Letting go of him, Sparrow laughed and moved away, allowing the now zombie-like Reaver to leave the room. She heard the main door creak open and close and the echoing laughter of Norman.

Smiling with delight, Sparrow moved back to the desk to continue her paperwork. As she did, Sylver moved closer and raised an elegant eyebrow at her.

"Are you sure it's safe to have a man like that around?" In human from, Sylver's voice was deep and had a slight British drawl. Sparrow smiled innocently up at him, tapping her pen on the desk.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Sylver. Reaver is a man that is easily subdued with the right touch or the right words." She began to shift through some of the papers. "He is a man with an overly large ego and a high sense of himself. He may be the Hero of Skill, but he is still a man."

"Just don't press your luck. Despite what you make think, you are still playing a dangerous game." His voice was laced with concern. Looking up, Sparrow reached up and gently pat the side of his arm. Even though he was in human form, Sylver gave a growling purr at her touch. She was touched by his concern. Ever since that night in Rookridge ten years ago, the two of them had been very close, even though she had killed his mother. Though he knew what she had done, he kept by her side protecting and aiding her. She had once asked him if he ever hated her for what she had done in the past. He responded simply by saying 'the past is irrelevant, it's the future that counts.'

"I know, but everything will be fine, Sylver. You'll see. In the end, it all comes down to this: this is my game, and I always win." Sparrow said with a gently hum. "For now, let's just enjoy the fact that the most feared pirate in all of Albion is dancing around like an idiot." A fangy smile played across the Balverine's face. Only Sparrow would dare to make an idiot out of a man like Reaver and laugh in his face when he confronted her about it [which was most likely to happen once the Chaos Spell wore off]. Truly his master was a one-of-a-kind.

-----

Several Hours Later...

-----

"BY ALL THAT IS PURE AND CORRUPT, SPARROW SHALL DIE!" vowed Reaver as he bulled his way through the people of Bloodstone and back up to his mansion. Blood red seeped into his eyes and his fist was white from gripping his pistol so hard. Any harder and the poor thing would probably snap in two. The Chaos Spell had finally worn off and the Pirate King was beyond enraged. He had officially become the most feared laughingstock in Bloodstone. A laughingstock due to the fact that he had for the past several hours danced about like a drunken monkey, and the most feared since he instantly shot anybody he caught laughing, giggling, or anybody who had a shit-eating grin once he regained his consciousness.

The number of deaths in that moment had tripled since his departure and Reaver was determined to add at least one more. If the Balverine got in his way, then two evil [at least in his mind] creatures would die tonight.

-----

**CE: Still a rather short chapter, but a short chapter with its edges cleaned up.**

**JA NE**

**[Goodnight]**


	4. Chapter 3 Omen

**When Darkness Falls**

-----

-----

"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Nakka Notes]

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**Chapter 3**

**Omen of a Dark Angel...**

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_Dark flames lapped hungrily at frail buildings as the screams of the fallen echoed through the midnight sky. The thick scent of blood and death filled the air. Bodies lay scattered throughout the entire village. Some were impaled with spears and arrows while other was hacked to pieces from corrupted blades. Blood bathed the earth a dark crimson hue and the sky was clouded from the thick, nauseating smoke that lifted from those hate filled embers. The roar of blood-drunk men could be heard, followed by more screams and pitiful pleas for life._

_Sparrow felt her heart tear at the sight. She wanted to go to them, protect them, _save_ them. But she could not. No matter what she did, she could not save these poor people. Why? For one, anybody that ran in her direction simply passed right through her. She was unseen and untouchable to this chaos, but everything was seen by her. It was a cruel torture. What creature would force her to witness such evil and not allow her to do anything? And the other reason? One could not alter the past, no matter how much she wanted to._

_She did not know how she knew, but she knew this place. These people were as familiar to her as those who surrounded her daily. She knew this town as much as she knew the one she spent her childhood in. All of it... so familiar and yet to foreign. An unknown rage and pain rose within her and she could swear she heard a voice cry inside of her. Then, something began to tug at her soul. Without a sound, she painfully made her way through the burning buildings, trying her best to block out the sounds of the dying and the sight of the dead. She found herself in the heart of the town where a small group of men stood. The men were all obviously bandits as evident from their looks and the blood soaked blades they carried. However, one of them stood out from the others. He was tall man wearing a blood red cloak and what looked to be black, armored pants and boots. His arms were covered with the same armor which extended down to clawed hands. His face was covered with a beautifully carved white mask with red and gold patterns. Cold, malicious gold eyes stared down at the ground with growing rage._

_Moving closer, Sparrow got a good look and just what he was staring at with such spite. It was a little girl, no older than about ten or twelve. She had chestnut hair pulled into pigtails [which had been unraveled rather roughly] and bright blue eyes. Eyes that stared up at the dark man before her. Almost as if judging him. She felt familiar to Sparrow, but she could not place it._

"_I shall ask you one last time." the cloaked man said while bending down and gripping the little girl's hair roughly with those clawed, metal hands. His voice was elegant, but dark and full of evil intent. It caused a shiver to run up Sparrow's spine. "Where is the boy?"_

_The girl remained silent, even as he gripped her head tighter, those eyes never leaving his. His own golden one narrowed and gave a low hiss of rage. "Very well then. If I cannot have your brother, then I shall take those accusing eyes of yours." He then pulled out a thick, black dagger and slowly dragged it across the girl's face. Sparrow watched in sick fascination as the man slowly carved out the girl's eyes, and yet she did not make a sound. As the sickening sounds of metal against flesh echoed in her ears, she felt her stomach lurch painfully and it took all her strength not to heave where she stood. Before long, the man stood back up, allowing the little girl to crumble to the ground in silent pain. A mixture of blood and tears ran down her cheeks as the man chuckled darkly. Even the men that surrounded them looked horrified and nauseous upon watching the cruel event._

_As he placed his dagger back from where he pulled it from, the man turned his head and stared at Sparrow with deadly, playful eyes. She felt fear surge inside of her as the man slowly began to walk directly towards her. Everything around them began to fade away into nothingness, leaving behind an empty darkness. In the back of her mind, she could hear a voice scream for her to run. To run as fast as she could from this demon. Sparrow began to take several steps back with every step the dark man took. This continued until she felt her back come into contact with something hard and cold. Before she could turn around, a pair of steel coated arms wrapped around her, trapping her._

_Raw fear welted up inside of her and she instantly began to struggle against her captor. But as she did, those arms tightened painfully around her. She then felt something cold brush against her ear and a cold voice soon followed. "At last... I've finally found you..." His cold voice caused her body to freeze and her eyes to widen in fear. "That man was a fool to think that his bloodline could elude me forever, though he did make it rather difficult for me to find you. He was clever. He made sure that his lineage was well hidden from the world... From _ME_. But I have finally found you. After centuries of waiting, you... are... MINE..." he whispered darkly in her ear._

_One of his arms then suddenly moved and before she could do anything to stop it, those clawed hands dug through her back and out her chest. A gargled cry escaped her as she felt him tear through her heart. But pain was not the only thing she felt enter her body. Something began to ooze from his claws and into her bloodstreams. Something dark and foul, like a poison. She felt it slowly crawl through her body and wrap itself around her mind. Soon, a darkness began to slowly spread though her soul. As her body began to succumb to this cold blackness, she felt her body begin to fall. She looked upwards and all she could see where those gold eyes that glowed with evil intensions._

-----

Sparrow gave a screaming gasp as she thrust herself from the comfort of her bed. The sudden unbalance caused her to topple from the comfort of the bed down to the hard floor rather roughly. With a curse and groan, she reached up and used the bed to haul herself back up. As she did, her wild blue eyes began to dart about the room in an attempt to discover her surroundings. The room was of average size with rather elegant furniture. A dresser, desk, and several chests sat propped against the walls and a pair of door-sized, glass windows were on the other end of the room. Recognizing the room as her own, she gave a quivering sigh and moved to sit down on the bed. With a trembling hand, she gently wiped away the cold sweat that trickled down the sides of her face and tried to ease the painful pounding of her heart. Then, with a small gasp, she pulled her sleeveless shirt down slightly so that she could see where those deadly claws as torn through her chest. The area looked no different than any other day, but she swore she could still feel the pain of her heart being ripped apart.

'_What the hell... What kind of dream was that?!'_ she mentally groaned while rubbing her pounding head. After a few minutes of trying to understand what had just happened, Sparrow sighed in tired defeat. Slipping her feet into a pair of soft slippers and wrapping a robe around her shoulders, she silently walked out of the bedroom. As she did, she had to step over the sleeping Sylver as he laid curled outside her door. This caused her to smile softly and reach down to gently rub his fuzzy ears. This was rewarded with a wolfish purr and an unconscious wag of his tail. Ever since a group of bandits invaded the mansion via the underground passageways, Sylver had moved to sleep outside so that he could hear ever sound that creaked in the house. With a silent giggle, Sparrow moved away from her Balverine companion and began to make her way downstairs. Along the way, she stopped in front of a large door that led to one of the more elegant guest bedrooms. The sounds of moaning, cursing, and grunting could be heard from within, but Sparrow was not alarmed at all. She knew exactly what was happening inside.

Not too long after the Chaos spell had worn off, Reaver had thundered his way back to mansion and took another attempt at her life. Sylver quickly countered and the two exchanged some rather heated words. Just as the two of them were about to rip out the other's throat, Sparrow [in a rather calm voice] dropped the bomb on the two men by saying that Reaver could stay at the mansion until they worked everything out. Sylver instantly began to list a rather large number of reasons why that was a bad idea, but Sparrow's mind was set. Reaver agreed and tried to worm his way into her bed with some sweet words, which was rewarded with a rather thick book bouncing off the side of his head.

With her generosity came rules and limits. Well... only two really. One, he would not try to harm her in any way and the other was that he would have to keep his hands to himself. He reluctantly agreed to this as well and left the mansion momentarily. When he returned, he had two young women and a younger man with him. If he could not have any fun with Sparrow, then he would _bless_ others with his attention. Since then, the little foursome began a seemingly endless orgy. A rather _loud_ one at that.

'_Probably revenge for the book...'_ she thought with a roll of her eyes. Ignoring the squealing, Sparrow continued to wander through the house until she reached a room that she had added soon after buying the house. Using Inferno to light the many candles that donned the walls, she locked the door. The room was a large one without furniture. In fact, the only thing in the room was a large weapon stand that held weapons of all kinds. There were also a few targets and dummies piled up in the corner. One of said dummies strangely resembled Reaver with a rather comical face painted on its head. It had the most bullet holes in it too.

Sparrow had learned early in life that the best way to ease a troubled mind was to completely immerse herself in the thrill of combat. Pulling a long sword out of the rack, she kicked off her slippers and undid her robe. With the haunting memory of her dream fresh in mind, Sparrow began to swing her sword skillfully through the air.

-----

Lifeless, sightless eyes stared emptily out over the land of Albion. A calm silence washed over the world, allowing its blissfully ignorant citizens to continue on with this lives, unaware of the darkness that was slowly forming across the land. But she knew... She could see it... Though cruel fate had robbed her of her sight, she could see, no... more like feel, the dark shadow that was slowly churning over Albion.

"The dark tide has once again begun to flow..." she whispered softly as she closed her eyes. A faint smile then suddenly played across her lips and she glanced over into the shadows that surrounded her. "It's been a long time since you have appeared in this land, William."

A figure shifted in the darkness and a tall man stepped out. He wore a long blue and white robe with golden armor covering his right shoulder and his hands. A blue wrap was wound tightly about his face and he carried a large, golden Scythe in his hands. But what stood out the most from this man was his skin. It was withered and a sickly brown coloring. He looked more like a wrapped corpse than a man.

As he stepped forward, he tapped the butt of his scythe against the stone ground with mild irritation. "It has been a long time since I have gone by that name." Like his body, his voice sounded somewhat hollow and lifeless, and yet there was also an immense power flowing from it. Like a river of pure, raw Will.

"Ah, yes. How thoughtless of me." chuckled Theresa lightly as she turned towards him. "Now... What brings you back to Albion?"

"Have you not felt it?" His dark eyes moved out to gaze over Albion. "This stirring of dark Will? Such power... I fear it may be a sign of his return."

"But why now?" The gentleness in her voice faded and a faint look of worry washed over her. "Six hundred years have passed since that night. Why now does he chose to return?"

Scythe shook his head. "I do not know. It may have something to do with that girl." He looked at Theresa, lifeless eyes meeting equally lifeless eyes. "And what of you? What shall you do to prepare for this growing darkness?"

Theresa's smile returned and she slowly moved away and towards the center of the large room. There was a stone pedestal that rose upwards and nestled in its tight grasp was a perfectly crafted sphere. She reached out and gently ran her fingers across its smooth surface. It glowed softly under her touch. "The Heroes of Albion have been away far too long. While two of them have returned..." The fog within the orb shifted and revealed an image. It was Sparrow slicing through the air with her sword with much vigor. It swirled once more and showed Reaver passed out in the arms of two women and a younger man, his hand clutching his pistol tightly even in the afterglow of one hell of a romp.

"However, there are still two that must be returned." The image of Reaver faded and was replaced with that of a bulky woman sparring with another man in the middle of a snow storm, then swirled one last time to show a dark skinned man with brightly lit Will lines surrounded by a vast number of books, two of which were in each hand.

"It is time for them to once again walk upon this land." Placing both hand on either side of the orb, Theresa forced a large amount of Will into it, causing it to glow a blinding light.

-----

Far to the north, in the frozen land that was Hook Coast, Hammer swung her mighty hammer towards a small, thinner man, who easily slid out of the way to counter her strike with one from his overly large lance. For the past ten year she had resided in this frozen wasteland, honing her dominance over Strength and learning the truth about fighting. The warrior monks were not willing to let her join at first until she performed several near impossible feats. Feats that she overcame with [surprisingly] great difficulty. Apparently, they only taught those they thought truly worth.

The first thing she learned to do was completely forget her previous pacifistic teachings, as she was most definitely not going to be needing those here. Not that she had any difficulty with that. Her first year with the monks had been nothing more than intense studies of the very art of fighting and war. She had to learn the how's and why's before she was even able to hold her hammer once more [as they had taken it away the moment they accepted her]. It was stressful and she had to learn how to control her temper, though it didn't help that most of the higher students had taunted her. Nothing seemed to be going anywhere until one night when one of the more taunting boys pushed her too far during dinner by tossing a rather disgusting pile of slop at her head. Snapping out of rage, she countered this by heaving up a solid oak dining table [with several monks still sitting in it] and attempted to cave in his head.

The Head Priest, after seeing this, decided it was time for her to put her raging strength to good use and she was given back her hammer. After three more years of learning the correct stances, intense meditation, and balance Hammer had finally moved up from Student to Monk-in-Training.

With a grunt, Hammer swung her hammer and slammed it into the ground, sending a rather violent shockwave at her fighting partner. Unable to counter the move, the smaller monk found himself falling flat on his ass. He chuckled up at Hammer, who offered her hand to him.

"Not bad, Hammer. You certainly have improved in the ten years you have been here." He took her hand and she easily picked the man up. After he dusted the snow off of his robes, he took several feet back and readied his lance. "But let's see if you can pick it up a notch."

Hammer grinned and pulled her hammer back. "You haven't seen anything yet!" She charged towards him, but just as she was about to swing her weapon, a powerful [and rather painful] jolt ran through her body, causing her to stop and collapse to one knee with a pained gasp.

"Hammer!" cried out the monk. He tossed his lance to the side and raced towards the large woman. "What is it?"

Hammer reached up and clutched her head as she felt the jolt grow stronger. Images of Albion and Sparrow pulsed in her mind and she could hear Theresa's voice murmur something inaudible. The overwhelming urge to return to her homeland swept through her as well as a sense of urgency. Something was wrong... Something was going to happen. And she had to be there when it did. As the thought sunk into her mind, the pain ceased altogether, leaving a panting Hammer kneeling in the cold snow.

"Hammer?" The monk placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She snapped her head up, causing him to take a step back out of surprise. "Geez! Don't do that!"

"I have..."

"Huh?"

"I have... to return..." she said through greedy gulps of air.

"Return?" He scratched the side of his head. "You mean return back south, where you came from?" She nodded. "Why now all of the sudden?" Her only answer was a shake of her head. Even she didn't know the answer to that. Her companion sighed heavily. "Figures... You show up out of the blue, it's only fitting that you leave out of the blue." He reached down his hand and with a surprising strength lifted her up to her feet [he was, in fact, a good foot shorter than her and definitely not that muscular].

"Well then, you better get going." She looked down at him with quizitive eyes. He grinned boyishly as he understood what her eyes said. "If you have the urgent urge to leave, then I won't stop you. Go on. I'll tell the Head Priest what happened."

With a silent nod, Hammer reached down and lifted her hammer, resting it on her broad shoulders. As she turned to leave, she looked back at her friend. "By the way, Lance... Thank you for pelting me with food that night."

"Anytime, Hammer." he said with a devilish grin. Since that night she tried to literally crush every bone in his body, he had a new found respect for the Hero. Though they were not exactly thick as thieves, they were still comrades and even friends to some extent.

With a faint smile, Hammer turned around and began to walk into the snow storm, leaving behind what had been her home for little over ten years with nothing but her hammer, the lessons she had learned, and the memories she had shared with fellow monks.

-----

Meanwhile, in the eastern reaches of the world, Garth, the Hero of Will, sat in blissful silence with nothing by a large quantity of books for company. Since returning to his homeland, Garth had forgotten just how much he missed it. Samarkand, though rather wild and uninhibited in some parts, had been home to some of the greatest scholars, mechanics, and alchemists, himself included.

The return would have been all the sweeter for Garth if Reaver had not constantly pestered him since the moment they arrives. Despites Garth's warnings for Reaver to leave him alone, Reaver had in fact taken refuge in a spare room in Garth's old house. This had irritated the Will user as Reaver had the nasty habit of bringing back quite a large assortment of nightly companion and hosting very large, very loud parties while Garth tried to study. When Reaver finally left to return to Albion, Garth had seen him off if only to make sure that the egotistical pirate would not jump ship and swim back to the mainland.

When he did not, Garth gave a sigh of blissful relief and began to catch up on some much needed cleaning and studying. He had been away from his little home for well over thirty years and everything was covered with a very thick layer of dust and a mixture of spiders, rats, and bats had made themselves at home. Thankfully his library was not as damaged as the rest of his house nor was his workshop where he kept several deadly chemicals under lock, key, and spell.

Taking a sip from some rather divine tea, Garth was about to open another large, well worn tome when a sudden jolt pulsed through his mind. Hissing in pain, he clutched his head tightly, causing his glass to tumble over. Like Hammer, visions of Albion and Sparrow coursed through his mind and the wordless whispers of Theresa echoed painfully in his ears. After several minutes of intense pain, everything faded away leaving the old Will User panting.

'_What in all that is Holy was that?' _he grumbled mentally while picking up his fallen glass. At least its contents did not get on any of his books or papers. He then stood up and began to collect several books, scrolls, and potions. As he shoved them into the various pouches that were strapped to his body, he began to blow out the candles that lit his house. Not knowing what was happening or what was to come, he knew that he had to go back to that land and to the one that brought them all together.

With a final look at his house, Garth pulled out a small, smooth stone and pushed a good amount of Will into it. With a flash of blue light, Garth vanished from the land of Samarkand.

-----

**CE: And Garth and Hammer once again return to Albion! It's a shame that you can't really interact with the other Heroes like everyone else in the game. I would have Hammer traveling with me all the time [since I favored my Skill and she could get up close and personal with the enemy]. Ah well...**

**JA NE**

**[Goodnight]**


	5. Chapter 4 Leaving

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: Chapter 4 remake!**

**I do not own Fable...**

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"Talking"

'_Thinking'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Nakka Notes]

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**Chapter 4**

**Leaving the Past Behind...**

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Reaver yawned in a rather cat-like manner as he strolled through his beloved house. Though it was still technically Sparrow's, he would not give up his claim on it. He had worked too hard for his title and this mansion, he would not let a simple woman or her overgrown lapdog take it way. And speaking of such, just where was Sparrow anyway? Several days had passed since he took root in his home once again and he had not seen hide nor hair of the revered Hero except for the occasional glance or two. Same with that damnable Balverine of hers. If he had it his way, he would have simple shot the two and have someone toss their bodies into the sea. But, as fate would have it, ever attempt he took at their lives [as he never was one to keep a promise] would always be met with failure by either Sylver interfering or his bullet being bounced back via a Will induced barrier. He even tried shooting her from afar and hidden, but she would always seem to know and his attempts would once again be in vain.

After about the tenth try, Sparrow finally got tired of it and threatened to use Chaos on him and make him do something far worse than dancing around Bloodstone like an idiot. She would make him sleep with the fastest, ugliest, most loudmouth whore in all of Bloodstone.

Shuddering from the memory, Reaver silently made his way through the mansion and into the study, attempting to find Sparrow's secret hideaway. When he was met with nothing, he gave a sigh of irritation. How hard was it to find a scantily clad woman with a Balverine for a shadow?! Grunting several curses, Reaver sat down at his old desk and basked in the warmth of the study. It was one of his favorite rooms, well... besides the bedroom of course. Shifting through the many papers scattered about the desk, he became a little grateful of Sparrow. She had done most of his paperwork for him and if there was one thing Reaver hated more than anything, it was paperwork. It never seemed to end and by the time he finally got through with one stack three more would take its place. But that was the price to be paid for being mayor of a city, even one as immoral as Bloodstone.

As he moved a book to the side, a small piece of paper fell out from one of its many pages. Humming with curiosity, the pirate picked it up and studied it. It was a picture of sorts, one that was slightly faded and its edges torn. He faintly remembered a man saying he had a device that could produce such a wonder. He couldn't remember his name or what the device was, but he did remember shooting him, the reason why [however] eluded him as well. The image itself was of two little girls, the one of the right a few years older than the one of the left. The youngest girl had her arms up as if to show off great power [even though she had a frail, almost starved looking body] while the one on right posed herself in a rather flirty, elegant stance. They both had chestnut hair and blue eyes that glowed brightly even against the faded parchment.

Reaver ran his fingers through his stubble, one eyebrow raised up and a faint pout on his lips. The littlest girl seemed so familiar to him, yet he could not put his finger on it. Those blue eyes, that over confidant look... that mischievous smile that promised pain and torment to all those who opposed her - it was Sparrow!

A look of mild surprise spread across his face as the name that matched the face echoed in his mind. This was Sparrow... In his mind, he compared the younger version Sparrow to the older version of Sparrow. The two were nothing alike! The younger Sparrow looked beaten down, starved, had dirt and grime caked all over her body, and wore filthy clothes; while the older Sparrow was confident, aggressive, had little to no clothing, and was sexy in a deadly sort of way. It was a little hard to believe that these two creatures were one in the same.

'_How in the name of Avo can a little girl like _this_ turn into a creature like _that_?!'_ his mind screamed.

His eye then caught something on the side of the image. There was a faint black mark that looked as if it had bled onto the picture. Turning the picture around, he noticed two simple words etched on the back, their curved letters resembling Sparrow's signature on all the papers scattered on the desk.

_**Never Forget**_

Never Forget? Never forget what? He turned the image back over and his eyes moved from the young Sparrow to the girl beside her. She was a good two or three years older than her companion and held a slight resemblance to her as well. Who was she to Sparrow? What was so important that she could not forget?

The sudden slam of the front door caused him jump, sending several papers scattering across the room. He could hear Sparrow's low grumbling as well as heavy footsteps that quickly made their way towards the study. Not sure what the temperamental woman would so if she caught him with her [presumably] most prized possession, he quickly shoved it back into the book it fell from and stood up from the desk. Just as he stood up, Sparrow came bursting through the door. The look in her eyes promised a punishment worse than death. Sylver, in human form, came in behind her out of breath.

"What are you doing in here?" she glared at Reaver with suspicion.

"Nothing." he answered quickly, but then added. "Just enjoying the warmth of my study."

Sparrow narrowed her eyes slightly but then shrugged. Walking briskly over to the corner of the room where her weapon rack was, she pulled out a long, silver katana and began to fit several daggers into her boots. "We're leaving." she said simply while equipping herself with quite the arsenal. Reaver stared blankly. They were leaving? About damn time... He had quite had enough of the two and would be more than glad to take back what was rightfully his. As if knowing what was going on through his head, Sparrow looked over at him and grinned rather darkly.

"Don't get your hopes up. You're coming with."

"WHAT?!" shouted both Sylver and Reaver at the same time. The two men looked at each other before glaring at Sparrow as she began to fit twin pistols into her belt along with several other small weapons.

"You heard me. Reaver is coming with. I will not have you run about in _my_ house unattended. Avo knows just how much damage you would cause..." Reaver was about to yell that it was HIS house, but bit his tongue when she slung a very dangerous looking blunderbuss over her shoulder. He had learned a long time ago not to piss off Sparrow when she had that thing on hand. The last time he did, she nearly blew off his head and it was no easy feat to dodge a bullet from that thing. Sylver also held his tongue, though his discomfort for Reaver was well known through the glare in his red eyes. He did not like the pirate one bit. He had tried to kill his master, steal from his master, and even had the balls to try and bed his master! It was very clear that he did not want Reaver around and he had no idea just why Sparrow kept him around.

Grinning at the two, Sparrow finished arming herself and began to walk out of the study. As she did, she pat Reaver's shoulder. "Glad you see it my way." she hummed in a voice that was way too cheerful for his comfort. Sylver followed close behind, once again listing the many reasons why they should not take the Hero of Skill. Said Hero stood there for a good minute or two wondering just what the hell just happened. He had not seen Sparrow for several days and then up out of the blue she says that they are leaving and dragging him with them.

"Hurry up, Reaver!" shouted Sparrow from afar. "Don't make me lug you over my shoulder!" Groaning with frustration, Reaver ran after the two of them. By the time he reached them, they were already outside and Sparrow was talking to Norman. "I leave the house in your charge. Take care to keep eyes on the sea and Wraithmarsh as I am gone."

"Yes, ma'am." The ex-bandit gave a light bow before running off, which pissed Reaver off to no end. In less than ten years she had pretty much domesticated Bloodstone and its people whereas he let them roam wild, mostly due to his lack of patience. After Norman left, Sparrow turned around and began walking through the city, followed by a now beastly Sylver and a grumbling Reaver.

"Where exactly are we going, anyway?" asked Reaver as his crossed his arms over his chest.

"Brightwood. Garth is back and I need to see him." It was a vague answer, but then again, even Sparrow did not really know why. Not long after her dark dream, she had the urge to go to Brightwood, more specifically Garth's Tower. For some reason, she knew he was back and she had to see him.

"Then I say we take _The Elegance_." An obvious pride overflowed from his voice, causing Sparrow to roll her eyes. She then turned so that she face him, but kept walking, skillfully dodging anybody that happened to be right behind her.

"No... We are not going by sea." Seeing the confusion in his eyes, she smiled faintly and turned back around. "We're going through the Wraithmarsh."

"WHAT?!" Reaver stopped dead in his tracks, causing the other two to stop as well. The Wraithmarsh? She wanted to go through the Wraithmarsh? In the middle of the night?! And the tone in her voice... How could she sound so casual for something so serious? Even Reaver wasn't stupid enough to travel through the Marsh late at night. "Are you insane?! Do you have any idea what roams the Marsh at night?" She turned her head to look at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes I do know that resides in the marsh." He was about to say something but she quickly interrupted him. "And yes I do know what I am doing." He tied once more to say something but she interrupted him again. "And no we will not take a boat to Westcliff, where we'll have to _walk_ for nearly two days to reach Brightwood whereas we could spend only a half a day to reach the Cullis Gate that leads directly to Garth's Tower, so shut up and man up." The fact that she said all that in one breath impressed him to some degree, but that last part made his face grow red with rage. This caused Sylver to snicker wolfishly. With a sweet smile, Sparrow continued to walk towards the Marsh's entrance.

As Reaver followed after her with a stream of curses flowing from his lips, red eyes narrowed as they gazed upon the trio from above.

"So... This is where you've been hiding..." The Shadow's voice was dark and full of malice, directing it purely at the young woman who laughed almost darkly as her Balverine companion playfully shoved the Pirate King to the side. A dark grin played across his lips, exposing sharp teeth. "Hehe... This is going to be fun." The shadow then vanished into the darkness, the fading echo of his dark chuckle causing the person passing below to shiver.

-----

The trip through the Marsh had been rather uneventful, despite Reaver's whining. A couple of banshees here, a shadow Hobbe there, and a few waves of Hollow Men, but all in all, nothing that really posed too much of a threat to the Hero of Albion, the Hero of Skill, or the White Balverine. At one point, a pack of Balverines sprung out from the darkness, their claws aiming more towards Sylver than the other two. Apparently, word got around in the Balverine tribe of a White Balverine aiding humans. Now, while most people would consider Balverines to be just mere, bloodthirsty beasts without a single shred of intelligence, they would have been half right. While humans turned Balverine were nothing more than monsters, pure blooded Balverines were highly intelligent and apparently did not take too kindly to one of their own helping humans, especially if said humans were Heroes.

But with the combined Skill Power of the two Heroes and the tact of their own Balverine, they fell like everything else the Marsh dished out at them. And not so much as a single bite mark to boot!

"Not bad." commented Reaver as he holstered his pistol while glancing over at Sparrow. She was cleaning the blood of her katana while Sylver licked his wounds. "For a woman." he added with a mocking smirk.

"Oh please." Sparrow rolled her eyes while sheathing her sword and repositioning her blunderbuss so that it was a bit more comfortable on her back. "I could shoot circles around so fast that it could make your pretty little head spin!"

Reaver frowned. Did she really think that _she_ could one-up _him_? "Heh... You must have gotten hit upside the head one too many times if you think you could beat me in a game of Skill." He gently tapped her head with the back of his knuckles as if to emphasize his words. This caused her green eyes to bleed red and she swung a fist in his direction. He managed to move just far enough to dodge it.

"You are honestly the most pigheaded man I have ever met!" she practically screamed with fury. Seeing her flushed with rage, Reaver smirked and decided to see just how much he could push her buttons.

"I've seen the men you've associated yourself with. Heh... _I'm_ the _only_ man you've ever met." With a smug smile, Reaver turned around and began to walk away. He did not see the red fury that began to glow in her eyes, nor did he see her bend down, scoop up a handful of swamp slim, and launch it at his head. As it made contact with an audible 'plop', Sparrow smirked.

'_Take that, pretty boy!'_ cried a childish voice in her head. Reaver's body tensed as he felt the cold, wet slim trickle down his perfect hair and down his back. He turned his eyes and glared at Sparrow, who was examining her nails innocently. Oh how much he wanted to shoot her then in there, but instead he looked down at the ground and smirked. It was better to fight fire with fire, after all. As he bent down and began to collect a large pile of slime, Sparrow's smug smile vanished and was replaced with a growing fear.

"Oh, no." she said while pointing at him as if he was a child doing something naughty. "No. No. No..."

POW! The force of the large slime ball caused her to topple over onto the slimly ground. Sylver's ears flattened down on top of his head as he _felt_ her growing rage. This was not going to end well. As she got up, she glared at the smirking Reaver and began to wipe the slime off of her face.

"You... egotistical..." she began while stalking towards him. "Disrespectful, pretentious," She picked up a rock and hurled it at him, which he had to quickly duck for it to miss his face. "Pompous, self centered, untrustworthy, ungrateful, impossible, insufferable, shallow..." As the insults began to flow from her mouth, she began to throw even more things in his direction: some more rocks, a hard root, a rather surprised looked swamp crab. He could only chuckle in amusement as she went on her little tirade, but that last one stung. He was not shallow! Well... for the most part. Frowning slightly, he decided to join in and got up in her face.

"At least I'm not repressed!" he shouted with irritation.

"Repressed?! I'll show you repressed!" She then bent down and using her dominance over Strength, heaved up a very large bolder. It resisted at first, but with a powerful tug she was able to yank it out of ground. Just as she moved to cave in his skull, the ground under her lurched and began to shake violently. Then, before either of the Heroes could do anything, Sparrow was lifted up from the ground as a tall, burly figure rose up from the swamp. A loud growl echoed through the Marsh as a pair of red eyes stared down at the Hero of Skill below, who jumped away and gawked at the massive figure.

"A... A Troll?!" Of all the - Why in the hell did she have to go and wake up a Troll?! As Reaver slowly moved his hand towards his pistol, Sylver's fur hackled up and a low, wolfish growl emitted from him. Sparrow looked down at them with nervous eyes, her arms holding the bolder above her head wavering slightly. She wanted to drop it, but Reaver gave her a glare that promised an endless stream of pain if she did so. "Don't you dare." he called out quietly. If she dropped that thing, it was going to land right on top of the Troll's head, which would not only send it flying into a fit of rage, but also send her flying with it.

Sparrow bit down on her lip as her arms began to buckle. She managed to move the rock that it was no longer above her head, but it still felt increasingly heavy. Thankfully, the Troll was not making much movement. It kept looking back and forth between Reaver and Sylver, a grogginess clouding its eyes as if it had just woken up and was not quite with the world yet. It even looked as if it was about to go back to sleep. However, that idea sunk in the swampy mud as Sparrow's arms gave out and the large bolder toppled onto the creature's head.

The Troll blinked and then looked up as far as it could. It was enough to see Sparrow, who chuckled nervously. "Sorry." she said with a small wave of her hand. The Troll's eyes narrowed with anger and with a loud roar, it reached over and plucked a large, rotten tree right out of the ground as if it was a mere weed. It then swung downwards on its head in an attempt to crush the little human on it. With a yelp, Sparrow dove off of the Troll, causing it to miss her and slam the dead tree right on top of its head. As Sparrow freefell from the massive creature, Sylver leapt forward and caught her with ease [being mindful of his sharp claws, of course]. Once she was safely on the ground, Reaver glared daggers at her.

"You just had to wake it up!" he shouted while pointing a finger at the beast, which had dropped its makeshift club and began to rub its now sore head. "You couldn't hold a little rock for more than a minute!"

"Little?! I'd like to see you try lifting anything heavy with those pathetic arms of yours!"

"I would, but I'm afraid that you would sprain my back!"

"WHAT?!" Troll now forgotten, Sparrow was all too ready to pick up another rock and crush his pretty little head in. She was about to too, but a loud roar brought both of them out of their little glaring contest and they both had to shove their bodies out of the way of an oncoming rock. "We'll settle this later, Reaver!" she shouted as she quickly got back up to her feet. Pulling out her twin pistols, she began to fire at the now very awake, very angry Troll that began to hurl rocks towards the humans before it. Grunting in irritation, Reaver pulled out his own pistol and began to fire as well.

"Aim for the tendrils or it won't do any good!" he called out with a semi-taunting voice.

"I know how to kill a Troll!" she bit back as she aimed towards the small, maggot-like tendrils that covered the creature's body. "A shame that I still haven't been able to figure out how to kill you though!"

"My dear, that hurts!" Reaver fake pouted while shooting several tendrils at once, causing he Troll to roar in pain. "I am far too pretty to be a Troll and I'm pretty sure that everyone in Bloodstone will agree with that!"

"HAH!" Sparrow ducked and rolled out of the way as the Troll slammed its fists into the ground and sent a powerful rock filled shock wave at her. She fired her pistols and two more tendrils exploded in a shower of sickly green blood. "The only reason that they would agree with anything you say is because you're a good fuck!"

"Now how would you know of that unless you've experienced it yourself? After this mess is over, I would be more than happy to show you why the people of Bloodstone call me a god." he countered while dodging another rock. Sylver snarled and leapt at the Troll's face, tearing at its eyes with his fangs and claws. The now blind Troll began to thrash about, its cries becoming almost deafening. Both of them flinching, the two Heroes rose up their pistols and blasted away the last few maggoty tendrils on its swampy body.

As the beast moaned and crumbled back into the swampy hole that it came from, Sparrow turned to Reaver, a frown pursing her lips and her hands [guns still in them] on her hips. "Don't flatter yourself, Reaver. I have no intention of becoming your little whore."

"A pity." he sighed before tucking his pistol away. Just as the two of them turned away, Sylver gave a startling growl and a large hand shot out from the earth. With a growing howl, another larger Troll began to claw its way towards the surface. It was soon followed by several others. All of them were much bigger than the one they had just faced and they each looked much older. Realization then sudden hit Sparrow. They were in the middle of a nest and they had just killed one of their infants.

"Well... This is certainly an interesting turn of events." stated Reaver as he began to take a few steps back. Though his voice was calm, she could hear a slight tremble in it. He then looked to Sparrow and smiled as he took her hands. "Well, it's been a pleasure knowing you and I do hope that they kill you rather slowly for all the trouble you've caused me." As her mind tried to process just what he said, he took off in the direction of the Cullis Gate, leaving Sparrow and Sylver to fend for themselves.

"Reaver, you asshole!" she shouted as she watched him run. She turned back to the Trolls who were beginning to slowly climb out of their holes, something a Troll only did when very, very angry. Glancing back and forth between the pirate and the Trolls, she gave an exhausted sigh. "Fuck this!" With that said, she turned about and began to run as fast [if not faster] as the Hero of Skill. Sylver bound right behind her, thoughts of murdering his master's _ally_ once they caught up. He was not the only one to think this. As they drew closer to the Cullis Gate's position, Sparrow saw a small flash and knew that it was Reaver. "I will kill you!" she shouted in raw anger. With the thought of her hands ringing his scrawny neck firm in mind, she jumped into the Cullis Gate and vanished in a flurry of blue light.

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**CE: Still had lots of fun with this one!**

**JA NE**

**[Goodnight]**


	6. Chapter 5 Gathering

**When Darkness Falls**

**-----**

**Chaos Eternal: Changed my name from Nakka-sama so that my two alter egos [Nakka and Takka] could have a bit more free reign of... whatever the hell they want.**

**Nakka: YES! Finally! I can bug the hell out of you properly!**

**Takka: Shut up, Nakka so that the master can do her opening sketch in peace!**

**Nakka: Make me, you goody-goody fairy!**

**Takka: Ooooo! That's crossing the line!**

**[Nakka and Takka begin a cat fight]**

**Reaver: Whoo! Cat fight! [drools]**

**Chaos Eternal: [le sigh] Anyway... Here's Chapter 5...**

"Talking"

'_Thoughts'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Chaos Notes]

**-----**

**Chapter 5**

**Gathering the Pieces Once More...**

**-----**

Brightwood forest was alive with peace as the gentle rays of the morning sun slowly caressed the distant mountains and splayed across the youthful valley. The soft, gentle breeze played through the emerald leaves, carrying with it the sweet scent of forest dew. The soft lullabies of the birds echoed in the distance as the silvery mist silently rolled across the crystalline waters. A deer slowly led its curious fawn out of a thicket and towards the tender brook close by, which bubbled with life. Truly, everything was at peace.

A peace that did not last long as a sudden blue flash caused the deer to flee and the birds to take flight. As if faded away, it relived a tall man with waving black [with hints of dark gray] hair and piercing blue eyes. He dressed rather suavely with a pistol strapped to one side of his hip and a cutlass strapped on the other side. He had a dark grin playing across his lips and he looked overly pleased with himself.

Ditching Sparrow had been the best thing Reaver had done in a long time. Just to see the look on her face as he took off and left her in a nest full of very pissed Trolls was well worth the beating he knew that was coming. Oh he knew that she would be alright, she always was [unfortunately for him] and she was going to beyond livid once they met up once again. With a silent chuckle to himself, he turned to walk towards the large Tower before him. However, the universe had different plans as another flash of light erupted from behind. His body growing tense, Reaver silently cursed himself and slowly turned around. What he saw made him jump back in surprise. Standing no more than a few feet away was a very sweaty, very tired, _very_ angry Sparrow. Her breath came out as deep, quick pants while sweat dripped from her slightly tanned body. Her short hair stuck to the sides of her face and her once green eyes were now a bloody red color. Her cheeks were a bright shade of red, most likely out of exhaustion coupled with her growing rage. In that moment, the perverted part of Reaver's mind kicked into gear and he could not help but think she looked simply divine like that. He even went so far as to wonder if this was what she would look like after a good _tussle_ in bed.

"You..." Her hissing voice caused his mind to snap back to the present. "You left me there..." She began to slowly stalk forward, which he countered with several steps back. He also noticed that she made fists so tight that her nails began to dig into the skin of her palm, causing blood to drip down to the stone ground. "You left me back there to die..."

"Uh... Yeah, that's the short version." he chuckled nervously.

Wrong choice of words, as the moment they escaped his lips, Sparrow lunged forward with an inhuman cry, knocking them both down to the ground. Reaver [being the pervert that he is] would have found her on top of him rather arousing... if her hands were not wrapped around his neck and she was shaking the ever living life out of him. Now, he had been in this sort of situation before. Ursula and Penelope had [apparently] done a little bit more than just set his house on fire while he slept with Andrew. Unlike them, however, the woman on top of him currently was a Hero, and even though he was too, she was a Hero of all three essences [strength, skill, and will]. And she was currently using that Strength that she had locked inside her seemingly frail body to keep him from rolling over and taking control of the situation.

"I'll kill you, I swear to god!" she shouted several times while screaming that he was an idiot over and over. To make matters worse, her hips were rubbing up against his pelvis in a rather pleasant way and despite the pain he could not keep his male instincts down... literally. He could only pray they she would not notice. However, when she suddenly stopped shaking him and looked down at him with sudden surprise, he felt his heart stop. Even more so when her already bloody eyes began to glow demonically.

'_Oh shit, she knows!'_

"GAH! YOU PERVERT!!!" Sparrow then began to shake his head once again, only this time applying more pressure and increasing the number of times his head hit the ground as well as how hard it hit. This continued on for a good several minutes and just as Reaver was about to pass out, a small clunk ripped Sparrow from her fit and both she and Reaver [well, as much as he could anyway] looked up to see a rather baffled Garth standing at the entrance of the Tower. His usual blue traveler's vest and pants had been replaced with a rather cozy looking robe. Under his arm was a thick book and his monocle had been pushed up to his forehead. A small cup was at his feet [no doubt the cause of the 'clunk'] its dark, sweet smelling liquid spilling out over the ground.

"Oh... Hey, Garth." huffed Sparrow as she tried to catch her breath. She eased her hold on Reaver's neck ever so slightly, but kept a firm grip on him while at the same time removing a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "Long time no see!"

Garth blinked several times as if trying to process the scene before him before his eyes moved to the white figure behind them. His eyes narrow and his usual dead calm washed over him. He held up his hand a small crackle of lightning began to flow from his fingertips and as he stepped forward, he hissed a simple, commanding word.

"Move."

Sparrow raised an eyebrow and looked over her shoulder. As she realized just what caught the Will User's attention. When she saw Sylver sitting in front of the Cullis Gate with an amused gleam in his eyes, she released her hold on Reaver and began to wave her hands frantically. "No, no, no! It's okay, Garth! He's with me!" Garth looked away from the now hackling Balverine to Sparrow with a bemused look. With a deep sigh, she got up off of Reaver, making sure to give his head on final push to the ground, before making her way towards Garth. "It's a long story."

-----

"I see... So that's what has happened these past ten years."

"More or less. Thank you." Sparrow reached up and gently took the small cup that Garth offered her. Inside was a warm liquid the sweet scent of ginger, honey, and mint. Tea, most likely. Taking a small, tender sip, she felt her body grow relaxed and her aches slowly fading away. She even felt her anger towards Reaver fade away... well, as much as she would allow at least. She had also just finished filling Garth in on everything that had happened since the four of them went separate ways. Although, she did leave out a few... minor details. Details that she was sure he would scold her over if he found out [the whole Pirate thing would no doubt earn her a glare or two].

"So Garth, tell me, what brings you back to this corner of the world."

"To be honest," Garth sat down on a nearby chair. "I have no idea. A few days ago, I was stuck with a rather painful jolt of powerful Will. As it coursed through my body, visions of Albion erupted in my mind." He reached up and brushed his fingers across his head. He could still feel the faded hum of the Will pulse with his own. He then opened his eyes and looked into Sparrow's with deadly seriousness. "Something is going to happen, I can feel it."

Reaver made a scoffing sound, causing Sparrow to look over her shoulder at him with a glare. He was standing over in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest and an all too obvious look of irritation on his face. His head and ego were still sourly sore from Sparrow's wrath attack. "This is why you dragged me through the Wraithmarsh? To hear some old man ramble on about Will and dark visions?" Sparrow's glare intensified, as did Garth's, but the Pirate King ignored the two of them.

"You are here because it is your duty as a Hero." called out a familiar British voice. Looking up, the three Heroes saw Sylver, in human form, descend down the stairs. He wore a spare robe that Garth had, though the Will User was not too keen in the idea of a Balverine wearing his clothes. His red eyes rested firmly on the Hero of Skill. "As a Hero, you are obligated to rise up when darkness begins to bloom."

Reaver scoffed once more and looked away with a bored fashion. "In case you haven't noticed, you flea-bitten mutt, I look out for only one person: Me."

"Yes. And it's because of that you got your ass kicked." A smug smile played across Sparrow's face as Sylver taunted Reaver and Garth stifled a laugh. Oh, he had seen everything that had happened. It was quite the shock to look out his window so see a familiar female Hero topple and choke a familiar male Hero. But, hidden deep down in the depths of his soul, Garth felt something rejoice at the thought of the pompous getting his ass kicked by a female [no disrespect to Sparrow, of course].

Reaver wanted to bite back at the Balverine, but held his tongue on the account that he could not figure out a perfectly good comeback. Instead, he turned back around and began to grumble incoherent. Sylver smiled down at Sparrow as he rested his back against the wall, his arms over his chest, and gave her a small wink. Sparrow chuckled softly and shook her head. When it came to living with Reaver and Sylver, there never truly was a dull moment. Especially when the two were always trying to kill each other. Her smile then faded as she turned back to Garth, who matched her cold, serious look with his own.

"Things are beginning to happen, Garth." All traces of former mirth and mischief vanished. "I've been having... these weird dreams lately." Reaver instantly perked up and focused his attention to her. Even Garth leaned in closer. "I see Albion in ashes and a dark man in red." _You are mine!_ Sparrow flinched slightly as she heard man's dark words echo in her mind. This did not go unnoticed by Garth.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Sparrow forced a small smile. Her three male companions did not look as if they believed her. Reaver especial did not believe her words. When a woman says "I'm fine", more times than naught she was lying. And when it came to a woman like Sparrow, her words meant that there was something much deeper than she would let on. "In any case, we really shouldn't be here much longer. If you are here, Garth, there is no doubt that Hammer will have returned as well."

Garth nodded slightly and stood up. "I see. Give me ten minutes and we shall depart." With that said, he ventured to the upper level of his Tower to change into more suitable traveling clothes. As he did, Sylver stepped out of the way and made his way outside to scout the area for any possible threats, leaving Sparrow alone with Reaver. Sparrow, ignoring the heated looks she was getting from Reaver, turned and walked over to a large map of Albion that Garth had mounted on his wall.

"So were exactly are we going?" Reaver asked as he stepped up next to her.

"Weren't you paying attention?" Her voice held a hint of amusement. "We are going to Oakfield to find Hammer."

"Uh-huh... And just _how_ are we getting there?" Sparrow looked to Reaver and grinned. Without a word, she walked away from the pirate and towards the door. The look in her eye said it all. "Oh, no. Oakfield is nearly three days away! There is no way in hell that I am walking for three damn days!"

-----

Reaver groaned as the carriage hit yet another jump in the road, causing him to bounce his still sore head against the hard wood behind him. Garth and Sparrow sat on the seat opposite of him while Sylver hung on top of the wagon for dear life, every bounce threatening to throw the terrified Balverine off.

"Will you quite bellyaching, already?" hissed Sparrow as she bounced against Garth. "You said 'there is no way in hell that I am walking for three damn days' and this was the alternative!"

"But did you have to pick the carriage with the speed crazy dwarf and the mad horse?!"

"Will you quite bitching already, you drama queen?!"

"I'll bitch whenever the hell I please!"

As the two began to argue once again, Garth sighed and rubbed his temples as best as he could. This was going to be a _**long**_ ride...

-----

Sparrow groaned as she fell out of the carriage and onto the ground. Reaver did the same thing, only on the other side of the wagon while Garth and Sylver stumbled their way down and out of the wagon before sitting down on the cool earth, thanking whatever divine entity that watched over them the miracle of surviving.

"Ug... I never wanna get in another wagon again..." groaned Sparrow as she did her best to keep the contents of her stomach _**in**_ her stomach. Reaver, Sylver, and Garth moaned in agreement as they too tried to ease their stomachs. Fourteen and a half grueling hours they had been stuck in [and on, in Sylver's case] the wagon's semi-rotten wood with a crazed driver and an even crazier horse. The damn beast even jumped off of a damn cliff while its short driver sang off key with an obvious drunken tone. And whenever one of them dared to stick their head out of the window to ask just what the hell he was doing, the man would scream "It's a shortcut!"

"This is... all your fault..." accused Reaver with a nauseous burp while glaring at Sparrow.

"My fault?" She tried to make her voice sound threatening, but it came out weak. "If you weren't such a pansy, we wouldn't have had to rent a carriage to begin with!"

"Will you two give it a rest already!?" shouted Garth as he stood up and dusted the dirt from his pants. He had quite enough of the two fighting a seemingly endless war and just wanted to find the Hero of Strength and get back to his Tower. The two Heroes glared at Garth, then to each other, and then back to Garth. With several grunts and curses, the two agreed and got back up to their feet. Once Sparrow was on her feet, she gave her back a good pop before looking about. Oakfield had not changed much. It was still a quaint, little town surrounded by the lush forest on one side and the wide, open sea on the other. The white marble that was the Temple of Light still sat proudly at the top of a large hill as its white clad priests happily went about their day.

Sparrow's eyes narrowed slightly. Even after ten years, she still thought of them to be ignorant creatures that foolishly trusted their lives in the hands of unseen deities and relying on others to do what they refused to do. They were nothing but a bunch of pacifist fools who continued to cling to their beliefs in even the darkest of times. The light in Sparrow's eyes faded away slightly as she felt something rise up from the darkest pit of her soul. Hatred. She hated how ignorant and innocent these people were to the real world. Many people would think this hatred unbecoming of a Hero, especial the Hero of Albion, but Sparrow did not care in the least. Every human had their flaws and she was no exception.

"Sparrow?" Garth's calm voice brought her out of her thoughts. Apparently, he had noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. "What is it?" She looked up at the worried looks from Garth and Sylver as Reaver tried his best to appear that he didn't care.

"It's nothing." Her voice was lifeless and hallow. "Let's just get Hammer and get out."

With that said, she walked past Garth and into Oakfield, leaving two Heroes and a Balverine to wonder what was tearing at their female companion. In truth, Sparrow absolutely despised being in Oakfield. It held a glorious purity that she had lost back when she was a child. The night that Lucian had shot her, her frail, childish innocence had been ripped from her, leaving a void in her soul. A void that was slowly replaced with anger and hatred towards the man. But even after his death, that void was still consumed with rage, a rage directed towards the innocent. They had no idea of the terror and violence that thrived outside their little world or the darkness that slowly consumed the world. And Oakfield was full of these people. They believed that the shadow of the Temple of Light, which was blessed by the love of Avo, would protect them from everything dark and corrupt.

If only they knew...

"So... How are we going to find Hammer?" asked Reaver as he and the other two men gave Sparrow some space.

"If I remember her correctly, all we'll have to do is follow the drunken laughter." Sure enough, Garth's words held true as Sparrow bypassed everything else and briskly walked towards the tavern. As she did, she could hear the silent whispers of the people she passed. Some whispered her name while others praised her previous deeds. Some even attempted to approach her, but she quickly maneuvered around them and continued towards her destination. She did not have the time for mindless praise.

As Sparrow waltzed into the tavern, she instantly regretted not bracing herself as the fowl stench of old ale, smoke, vomit, and cheep perfume overwhelmed her and nearly brought her to her knees. The loud roar of drunken laughter and singing stung her sensitive hearing, hell even the air had a nauseous salty taste to it. Groaning in disgust, it took all of Sparrow's strength not to hurl on the spot. As the others followed her in, both Gath and Sylver were struck as hard as she was. Reaver, on the other hand, took in a deep breath and smiled.

"Smells like home." His voice was a little too cheerful, earning him a small whack upside the head, courtesy of Sylver. A faint smile tug at Sparrow's lips before she moved towards the front most bar. As she sat down, she glanced about the building in hopes of catching sights of the familiar bulk that was Hammer. No such luck. With a sigh, she tapped the counter and she was presented with a jug of ale. Reaver sat down next to her and did the same while Garth and Sylver moved to the upstairs balcony to have a better lookout. Hours ticked by and there was still no sign of the Hero of Strength.

Reaver was already shitfaced and mumbling incoherent things while resting his head on the table. Garth had moved to the upper bar, leaving Sylver on the balcony watching over his master. Sparrow gave out a bored sigh as she ran her finger through the froth that was her third mug of ale. She didn't want to get too drunk like Reaver, who had consumed about ten and a half mugs. When Sparrow had told him to slow down on the drinking, he attempted to get up and waltz over to keep some bar wenches 'company' but was quickly stopped when Sparrow threatened a dagger to his groin and told him to keep drinking. In a way, it was nice having the Hero of Skill passed out as she would not have to listen to his flirty comments or complaints.

Sparrow grinned slightly as she propped her elbow on the counter and rested her head in her hand while looking at the snoring Reaver. She poked his cheek gently, causing him to mumble and groan but not wake up. With a devilish grin on her face, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, black marker. With careful, gentle strokes, she outlined a comical mustache and monocle on his face. Chuckling with satisfaction, she pocketed her marker and admired her work. He would no doubt be more than pissed when he found out that she drew on his perfect little face, but pay back was a bitch, even if it was minuet compared to him leaving her alone with a bunch of Trolls.

"Well, aren't you a purty little thang!" Sparrow twisted about to see a large drunk man sitting down next to her, eyeing her with a lustful look. "How's about you keep ol' Lucky company?" Sparrow groaning inwardly as he leaned so close to her that she could smell his breath. It smelt like a mixture of rotten eggs, fish, and alcohol.

"Thanks, I'll pass." she growled softly while moving so that she faced the counter. The man slide closer to her and moved down to grasp her butt. She yelped in surprise and then glared at the drunken man.

"Aw, common, lil' lass. I'll give ya the best night of yer life!"

"I said no, now let go before you lose an arm." Her hand inched towards a dagger hidden in her pants. The drunk did not seem to take the hint as he squeezed her ass even more while his other hand reached towards her chest. Before she could dig cold steel into his eyeball, someone tapped the man's shoulder. As he looked back, a very pissed Sylver slammed his fist into his face. As the drunk reeled back, he growled and lunged at the Balverine, causing the two of them to crash into a table where a couple more drunks were playing poker. Their game interrupted, the man joined in on the tussle, flinging both fists and beer bottles. Before long, the whole tavern was in an uproar. Ducking a chuckled bottle, Sparrow grabbed a hold on the still unconscious Reaver and tossed him over the counter, behind the bar so that he would not get himself killed.

After she did, she gave a dark laugh and lunged into the fray. Sylver was dodging blows and continuously slamming his fist into the man that assaulted _his_ Sparrow. Even if the two had no romantic interest in each other, Sylver was still a dog-like creature and Sparrow was considered a part of his pack. And like all loyal canines, he had to defend her honor. Garth, who was still in the upstairs bar, simply sat at the counter and sipped at some exotic wine, moving his ever so often to avoid the flying objects. All the barmaids were cowering behind the counters while the bartenders did their best to break up the fight; however they only seemed to make it worst as the fighting intensified to the point that one man began to fire bullets.

Sparrow laughed as she planted a fire foot into one man's head and quickly swinging back to punch another. It had been a long time since she felt the thrill of a good brawl. It felt like pure ecstasy to her, so unlike the adrenalin that pulsed through her while fighting monsters and bandits. It was almost as thrilling as sailing the seas and stealing from other pirates. When she got to the heart of the fight, she grabbed a hold of Sylver and yanked him away just as one drunk tried to take his head off with a chair.

"Need a little help, pup?" she asked with a spark in her eye. Sylver grinned and grabbed a hold of Sparrow's arm. As she grabbed a hold of his, Sylver swung her around, allowing her to slam her feet into several drunks. As she touched the ground, she swung Sylver over her head, allowing him to launch towards the man that was shooting at people. As he knocked out the trigger happy man, a man turned Sparrow around and was about to punch her, but was stopped sort when a larger fist appeared out of nowhere and slammed into his face. As a large figure appeared in front of Sparrow, her eyes widened and a smile played across her lips.

"Hammer!"

The Hero of Strength looked back at her friend and grinned happily. "Sparrow! Long time no see!" She slammed her fists into a few more me. "It has been too long! You must tell me everything that has happened!"

"How about we share a good cup of ale after we clean up?"

Hammer looked down at Sparrow and the two women grinned darkly before charging forward.

-----

"Whoo! That was fun!" shouted Hammer with a loud laugh. Low groaned could be heard all around as the floor was littered with unconscious drunks. Sparrow heaved and sat back down in her chair, finishing what was left of her mug, which had somehow survived the fight. Reaver was just now starting to regain consciousness and was currently leaning on the other side of the counter while wonder just what the hell had happened. Garth and Sylver were currently helping the bartenders clean up the mess. Luckily, nobody was killed, but there were going to be a few black eyes and several broken ribs. Hammer sat down next to Sparrow and helped herself to some strong beer that had been forgotten.

After she chugged it down, she looked to her friend and gave her a half hug. "Sparrow, I don't see you in ten years and then I have to rescue you from yet another fight."

Sparrow playfully shoved Hammer. "Rescue me? Ha! I would have been able to take more out than you if my arm didn't cramp up." She rubbed her right arm to try and ease the tensed muscle. Hammer laughed loudly and pat Sparrow's shoulder.

"It's good to see you again, friend." She then looked over her shoulder towards Sylver. "So... What's the deal with prince charming?" Sparrow's eyebrow raised and she looked over at Sylver as well as he lugged two men out of the tavern. "I saw him come to your defense without hesitation. It's about time you found yourself a good man!" Hammer's teasing caused Sparrow face to erupt in a deep blush.

"W-What?! No! It's not like that, honestly!"

"Heh... You sure are defensive if that's 'not like that.'" She turned around in her seat and propped her elbows on the counter, keeping her eyes on the silver-haired man. "Does that mean he's available?"

Sparrow chocked and sputtered on her ale before bursting out in laughter. "Hammer... I can tell you here and now that he is not your type." she said through breaks in her laughter.

"Oh and why not?" asked Hammer while crossing her arms over her chest and glancing at Sparrow with a confused look.

"Because..." Sparrow wiped away the tears forming in her eyes before smiling brightly. "He's a Balverine."

"A Balverine?!"

Sparrow's laughter intensified as Hammer looked dumbfounded at Sylver, who gracefully tucked a piece of silvery hair behind his ear. Before Hammer got the idea to kill him, Sparrow filled her in on everything that had happened. From the time she adopted Sylver up to their current position. Hammer remained quiet through the whole thing.

"I see... Well... He's still cute." she declared while finishing her drink. Sparrow chuckled softly and then glanced over at Reaver who looked as if he was about to be sick.

"And how are we feeling?" she asked with a teasing voice. Reaver glared at her and flipped her off before groaning and resting his head back on the counter. Apparently, ten and a half mugs of ale was a little too much for the pirate. As he rested his head, he looked at his distorted reflection on the side of a beer bottle and shrieked and what he saw. As he began to scrub his face clean of Sparrow's drawings, Hammer laughed heartily and watched as Garth and Sylver approached them.

"We got lucky. The Guards are letting everyone off with a warning on the account that the Hero of Albion was here to break it up." Garth stated as he sat down on the other side of Hammer.

"Even though it was really all her fault." Sylver grinned as he leaned up against a broken table, his arms crossed over his chest. Sparrow rolled her head and threw a bottle at him, which he caught easily. As he popped the cork and took a deep drink, Hammer looked at them all and smiled.

"It's good to see you all again. It has been far too long since we were together."

Reaver looked to the three on the other side of the counter and grinned. "I saw we have a party to celebrate this _lovely_ reunion."

"NO!" shouted Sparrow and Garth at the same time. Garth because he was sick of Reaver's parties since he had more than a few back in Samarkand and Sparrow because she did not want to have to clean up _his_ mess in _her_ house. Hammer, on the other hand, smiled softly.

"I think it might be fun." Sparrow twisted her head about and glared softly at the Hero of Strength. She probably only thought it a good idea so that she could raid the wine cellar.

"Well, that's two against two..." Reaver hummed. The three of them then suddenly turned and looked at Sylver. His calm demeanor vanished instantly and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stick up. Reaver and Hammer looked at him with smiles that were way too innocent looking while Garth and Sparrow looked at him with glares that promised a painful death. With a nervous chuckle, the frightened Balverine sudden jumped out of a broken window. Reaver and Hammer groaned softly and Sparrow had a faint smirk on her face. At least Sylver wouldn't betray her like Hammer did.

"Well, that still leaves two yes and two no." Reaver's voice trailed off as he rubbed his stubble. He looked at Hammer with a raised eyebrow. The two of them nodded and then glanced over at Sparrow, giving her two innocent looks. Sparrow looked back and forth before shaking her head.

"Oh no... No. No!" Their smiled widened and Sparrow felt a shiver run down her spine. "There is absolutely no chance that you are having a party in my house! Absolutely not!"

-----

**CE: Oh god... This chapter took me forever and I feel that it was too drawn out. But then again, I think all of my work sucks. As long as you enjoyed it, that's all that matter anyway ^_^**

**Please Review and tell me what you think. I accept all types of reviews from praises to critizism, to flames. All reviews are welcomed. And if you have any ideas that you want to see, feel free to tell me.**

**JA NE!**


	7. Chapter 6 Shadows

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: Wow... 16 reviews and only 6 chapters in. So far this story has been one of the best ideas that I've had ^_^ And since this is going to be a long story, I do hope that you enjoy the ride. Let's see if we can get up to 20 reviews before the next chapter.**

**No Ownage! Sylver and all other characters not in the original series are owned by Nakka and company [me]! If you wish to use them in works of your own, you must get my direct permission!**

**-----**

"Talking"

'_Thoughts'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Chaos Notes]

**-----**

**Chapter 6**

**Shadows Whisper the Darkest of Secrets...**

**-----**

Sparrow cursed loudly as she pushed her way through the crowd that swarmed her home. Despite her refusal, Reaver had gone and arranged the biggest bash in Bloodstone history the moment they had returned. Practically everyone was invited, from all the shop keepers, to all the whores, to every damn lowlife that crawled through the sewers of the tainted city. This not only made the mansion very crowded, but also very sickly smelling. The sick scent of cheep perfume, sweat, and... other bodily fluids filled the house and it took some very strong self control to keep Sparrow from flinging Lightning bolts at everyone and then raising the Dead to tear Reaver limb from limb so that the Hollow Men could perform the Dance of Ur'Cyrandorandorander on his remains!

Reaver himself was having the time of his life. He had always been known to throw wild parties, but this one took the cake. And like every other party of his, he was the center of attention. Men and women alike flocked around him as he regaled his '_valiant' _and '_heroic'_ part in Lucian's downfall and how he himself had ended the tyrant's life, thus freeing the world from his dark shadow and saving the mighty Hero of Albion. This caused Sparrow's stomach to twist in disgust. The only reason why he had been the one that ended Lucian's life was because she could not bring herself to shoot him herself. Even to this day she still didn't know what had stilled her hand. Was it pity for a man who had become a hollow shell of his former self? Or was it because he was trying to accomplish the one thing she wished? Either way, the deed was done and nothing in this world would change it.

Hearing the sounds of chanting, Sparrow looked over across the room where Reaver had set up a makeshift bar. A group of drunken man had gathered around the mighty Hammer as she chugged down mug after mug of ale while they all chanted "Chug, chug, chug!" An alcohol induced blush swept across her face as she continued to practically drown herself with brew. When she finished one mug, she would give a shout in victory before turning to another. The man around her cheered in awe as she out drank even the toughest of drunks. Sparrow would never know where the Hero of Strength stored it all. She, for one, had never been able to hold her alcohol like most others and would get drunk rather quickly off of the littlest of things. And Sparrow was a dangerous drunk. The last time she submitted to its call, she ended up blowing up the tavern with a very powerful Inferno spell. Luckily, nobody was seriously injured, but the pub had been reduced to mere ashes. Her pockets had been empty of gold for months because of it.

Dodging horny drunken men, Sparrow continued to try to make her way through the mansion without losing her temper. As she did, she glanced over to the door that led to the study. The moment Reaver began to invite people over, Garth had locked himself inside the warm room, refusing to let anybody inside. Not even her! She couldn't blame the Will User though. The room had been soundproofed so that she could study in silence. There was even a small room where the escape passage was that held everything needed she would need if she decided to spend a good few days in there [which she did on several occasions].

And as for Sylver? Well, the Balverine had taken off to Wraithmarsh to avoid any unwanted trouble. Sylver had always been a male that loved control. He claimed that it allowed him to better protect her [alpha male wolf dominance and all]. The party had severely cut into that control and he had left so that he would not lose control of himself and tear at someone's throat.

Grunting in frustration as a drunken prostitute collided with her, Sparrow continued to make her way out of the main hall and soon found herself up on the balcony on the second floor. Breathing in a deep breath of fresh air, she leaned against the railing and gazed out at the ocean. A full, silvery moon played across the onyx water, causing it to glisten like diamonds. The distant shadows of ships could be seen drifting across the horizon and the glowing silhouette of the Tattered Spire brought back painful memories.

_You will make an excellent soldier._

Flinching as the dark voice echoed in the back of her mind, Sparrow shook her head roughly and leaned her head against the cool railing. She had tried so hard to forget her servitude in that evil place, but every night the screams of those she was forced to torture and kill returned to her. As well as _his_ voice. Her blue eyes narrowed at the thought of her demonic superior came to her mind. Those ten years under his rule had been a living nightmare. He had forced her to be an obedient lapdog at his disposal, doing everything he commanded without question. Sure, she had resisted at first. She refused to bow before him or she would try to save the lives of those being tortured. But with every act of disobedience, there came a heavy price. The collar she wore would send painful shocks throughout her body, sapping away her energy and even forcing her to lose her most precious memories. The names of her parents, the reason why they never came back, the children she grew up with on the streets of Bowerstone... all of them faded away into nothingness.

As the years faded, so did her constitution. The only kind words she ever heard were that of Garth's whispering into her mind that everything would be fine and for her not to lose herself. But in those dark halls, it was easy to get lost in the shadows. The Commandant finally broke her by forcing her to kill a fellow Guard named Bob. He was a sweet man who had surprising won the Crucible Challenge [the only requirement for joining the ranks of Lucian's army] and had expressed great joy that he was finally going to be something in life. He was the only one [other than Garth] that had been kind to her and he would often speak of his beloved wife. But the dark solitude of the Tattered Spire had drained away his willpower and he became a hollow shell just like everyone else. When the Commandant handed her his sword and ordered her to slay her only friend in this dark place, she felt her heart tear. She wanted to do nothing more than drive that blade into the demon's throat and tear off his head. But something else whispered in her mind.

_Kill him. Send him away from this place. Do not give these demons the pleasure of ending his life. Kill him and set him free._

The light in her eyes faded away as she remembered him screaming in pain as she drove that sword into his chest, freeing him from that horrid prison. As the blood sprayed onto her, she could hear the Commandant whisper to her, but she could not understand what he said. Everything faded away and all she could do was pray for forgiveness. Ten years passed and all hope of ever escaping began to fade away as Garth was moved deeper into the Spire. With her light fading away, she quickly became easy prey to the Commandant's dark influence. He began to fashion her into the ultimate dark soldier. If he commanded her to take a life, she took it. If he told her to torture someone, she did. Before long, she worked her way up the ranks and there were whispers that the Commandant favored her above all others, earning her the jealousy and rage of her fellow Guards.

Not that there was anything to be proud of by being the Commandant's Pet. Every day was hell as he hardened her, filled her head with ludicrous beliefs, and trained her to be the perfect follower of _Lord_ Lucian. The only comfort she ever had were the few memories she desperately clung to and the fact that no man could touch her. Being the only woman Guard in a Spire full of men, Sparrow was bound for trouble. They would whisper or shout dirty things at her and some were even so bold as to try and touch her. However, every time they did, their collars would activate and send them to their knees, screaming in pain. Apparently, Lucian had retained enough of his honor to make it so that no man could take advantage of any woman inside the Spire. This, of course, also worked the other way around, not that Sparrow would stoop so low as to try and rape someone. Hell, even the Commandant knew not to touch her, though that did not stop him from whispering dark things to her.

Killing him had been the best thing she had ever done. The look on his face and the rage in his eyes when he discovered that it was she who slaughtered all the Guards after Garth freed her from her shackles. All the pent in rage had burst out of her as she fired, slashes, and blasted him. Since she had never really seen him in battle, the fight had been long and hard as the two dodged the other's attacks before executing well placed attacks. In those moments, Sparrow was grateful for the Commandant, as he had trained her to kill perfectly. And what a perfect death he gave her. But, as he drew his last breath, he whispered something that caused her soul to blacken with hatred.

_Perfection..._

The word was simple, but its impact felt like a knife twisted in her heart. Sparrow sighed softly as she pushed herself off of the balcony's railing and forced her cold eyes away from the Spire's dark shadow. Even after twenty years, the darkness remained inside of her. A darkness that would never go away... A darkness that _he_ put inside of her.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she did not see, hear, or feel the dark shadow that slowly scaled down the side of the wall. Red eyes narrowed with deadly ambition and a flash of metal played through the moonlight as it drew closer and closer towards its prey.

-----

Reaver grunted silently as he slowly made his way through the large mass of people. In his hands were two chalices of rare wine and a frown was pursed on his thin lips. As much as he loved the attention of the numerous whores that flittered about the house, there was one woman in particular that he wanted attention from. He had noticed Sparrow's absence rather quickly and watched her in silence as she trailed up to the second floor and through the door that led to the balcony. He waited several minutes before grabbing a couple of drinks and trailed after her. He didn't want to appear as if he cared, hell he wanted to kill her for all the trouble that she caused him! But not before taming the hellcat and showing her why the people of Bloodstone called him a God.

He had it all worked out. First he would get Sparrow drunk enough to lose herself, but not to the point she blew everything to hell [as Hammer had told him what happened to the last tavern she got totally smashed in]. Then he would bed her and finally shoot her in the head. It was foolproof [well... in his mind anyway]! Hammer was too busy getting drunk to do anything, Garth had locked himself in the study and refused to let anybody in, and her faithfully annoying lapdog had left for Wraithmarsh hours ago, leaving Sparrow defenseless and at his mercy. And just to make sure that she would not try to blow him and everything else up, he had added a little something-something to her drink. It was a drug he had picked up in Samarkand that would make subduing her all the more easy.

A dark grin played across his lips as he stalked upstairs and towards the balcony. But as he caught view of his target, he felt his breath stop. She stood there against the balcony railing, her long evening dress fluttering around her bare feet as the sea breeze played across her. Her short hair flittered this way and that as the silvery moon cased it to glow. The faint glow of her Will pulsed across her exposed arms and though he could not see them, there was no doubt in his mind that her sapphire eyes would be glowing softly as well. She looked like a Sea Goddess standing there facing the midnight waves and in the back of his mind, Reaver felt a voice whisper of perfection.

However, as that whisper called to him, he shook his head and closed his slightly gapped mouth. Reaver did not care how she looked; all that mattered was getting his house back. As silent as a ghost, he began to move towards her, his hands clutching the chalices tighter as he did. Just as he moved directly behind her, Sparrow's head perked up slightly and she turned to face him. There was a deadly calm about her face and, just as he thought, her eyes glowed with an unnatural aura. They were also shimmering slightly. Was she crying? She stared at him in silence for a few minutes before he offered her one of the drinks.

"Here." The arrogance that he had prepped had faded away as she stared into his eyes, almost as if she were staring directly in his soul. It unnerved him greatly. After a rather long minute, she reached up and gently took the cup from him. Once she did, Reaver moved beside her and leaned against the railing. "I saw you leave. Are my parties too exotic for you to handle, hm?" Ah, there was that arrogance he was looking for. He expected her to make some shrewd comment or even playfully hit him, but all she did was stare at him. Because of this, he began to see just how far he could go. "What is it? Does my perfection mystify you to the point you are speechless?"

"Heh, don't push it, you louse." she chuckled softly before turning back to the sea. She sat the glass on the railing and leaning against the cool marble once more. Reaver turned around as well and gazed out along with her. "You know, I can see now why you went from a simple farm boy to a pirate." He looked at her with a stupefied look, which caused her to stick her tongue out at him mischievously. "You really shouldn't leave your diary lying about where everyone and their mother can read it."

Reaver gave her a mock hurt face. "Sparrow, my dear, I am hurt that you would go and read my most private thoughts. You truly are a cruel woman!"

This earned him a short laugh. "Oh, please. I could read your thoughts without even looking at a crumpled piece of paper!"

"Is that right? Then prove it. What do you see now?" He turned to her and looked her dead in the eye, an unusual calm overcoming him. Her smile faded slightly and she took a good look in his eye before turned and resting her back on the railing, her arms crossing over her chest.

"'This damnable woman better give me back my house or else I'll have to shoot her pretty, little head.'" she claimed while imitating his voice. Reaver chocked out a laugh.

"Hm, I guess you can read minds."

"No, you are just that one minded." A small snicker escaped her as she reached down and picked up her wine glass.

Reaver turned to face her and smirked darkly. "Well then, you better listen to that little voice before I _do_ shoot your pretty, little head." His voice was low and calm with a hint of deadly playfulness. Sparrow smirked and leaned closer to him.

"What makes you think that you would even be able to shoot me?" Her voice was a soft whisper with just as much calm and deadliness as his. She knew she was venturing in uncharted territory by teasing the Pirate King, but then again, he really didn't know what he was getting into himself. Reaver's grin widened and he reached down and gently stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand. Normally, she would have reeled at the touch or would at least throw him over the balcony, but she was feeling particularly daring at that moment.

"Because this is my game and I always win."

Smiling softly, Sparrow took a step back and held up her wine glass. "Well then, here's in hopes that you catch your prize." He raised up his glass as well and the two of them gently tap them together, creating a small, crystalline 'clink.' As Sparrow raised her glass to drink from it, Reaver felt the swell of victory overcome him. However, just as the dark, tainted liquid was about to touch her lips, a dagger flew from the shadows and slammed into the chalice, creating a shower of glass and wine. The sudden explosion caused Sparrow to fall onto her rear and Reaver instinctively pulled out his pistol and aimed it in the direction where the dagger came from.

A loud growl roared from the darkness and a large figure suddenly lunged out and collided with the Hero of Skill. As he was forced to the ground, the impact forced him to lose his grip on his pistol. Groaning in pain, he looked up to see their attacker. What he saw made his blood run cold. It was a black Balverine, however, unlike the others, it still clung to its previous human form. With a loud growl, it moved to snap its fangs into his neck, however he quickly raised up his hands and clutched its head, keeping it from tear into him. It writhed in his grasp and pushed itself closer to Reaver, who had a difficult time keeping it held up. The damn thing was strong and was quickly overpowering the Hero. Just as it was about to tear into him, a shot rang out and the best stilled. Blood began to flow from a hole in its head as it slumped down onto Reaver. Giving a pained grunt, he rolled the dead creature off of him and looked up.

Sparrow held his pistol firm in her hands as smoke drifted up from its barrel. Since she had moves up close, blood mixed with wine on her gown and some even splashed onto her face. The murderous look on her face sent a dark shiver up Reaver's spine and in that moment he didn't know whether to be grateful or scared shitless.

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**CE: Ah, a little bit of bonding on Sparrow and Reaver's part and Hammer is having the time of her life XD Plus a little bit of filler as Sparrow remembers her servitude back in the Spire. And a new threat begins to arise! Who could it be? Well, you're gonna have to wait and see and trust me... it will be someone you less expect [dark chuckle]**

**Anyway, thank you all who have reviewed so far. You words are like a sweet, sweet drug that keep me from deleting this story and keep writing it instead! For those who have yet to review, do so and I shall reward you with yet another, sooner chapter!**

**JA NE!**

**WARNING, EXTRA SPOILER MOMENT!!! The following, brief message may contain spoilers of the game Fable 2!**

**The Dance of Ur'Cyrandorandorander is a dance performed by the Hollow Men after you buy the Graveyard Mansion [once you help the Grave Keeper collect and revive Lady Gray (the woman from Fable)] and take a very valuable gem from them. At the end of the cave, you can either kill the Hollow Man or give him the gem. If you choose the latter, a very funny dialogue will commence. This quest is near the end of the main quest.**


	8. Chapter 7 Desire

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: GOD! I'm so sorry for the late update! I've hit a bit of a wall and it's driving me crazy!!! [explodes] Both my grandmother and mother have fallen ill as well, so I've been having to take care of them...**

**WOOT! Over a Thousand Hits and 20 Reviews! [feels Epic Joy]**

**Sorry about the shortness of this one. I promise to do better next time!**

**No ownage... Nox is mine though, all mine, no one else's, mine mine mine! Same with Sylver.**

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"Talking"

'_Thoughts'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Chaos Notes]

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**Chapter 7**

**Desire Fuels the Raging Monster Within...**

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Reaver snarled rather inhumanly as he stormed his way through the halls of the Bloodstone Manor. The stench of ale, cheep perfume, and vomit had been completely erased from the mansion via several open windows and one very powerful gust of wind, courtesy of Garth. All the 'party guests' had be returned to their homes, alleys, or bars; leaving behind a drunken Hammer, an exhausted Garth, a confused Sylver, a pissed off Reaver, and a rather terrifying Sparrow. Not too long after the attack, she had stormed back into the mansion and threatened to shoot anybody that did not leave immediately [with the acceptation of the other three Heroes]. To make it worst, she had threatening to shoot everyone with _HIS_ Dragon Stomper .48! Thus was the reason why Reaver was in such a foul mood. It wasn't because she had not submitted to him, nor was it because she saved his ass from a man slowly succumbing to the blood of a Balverine. No... it was because she had killed the beast with HIS pistol and she had yet to return HIS pistol! It was bad enough that someone other than himself had touched it, but to keep it away from him for several hours straight like a mother taking away a child's favorite toy. To top it all off, she had managed to hide herself away so that he could not find her and claim what was rightfully his.

With a loud, frustrated growl, Reaver suddenly slammed his fist into the wall, causing a nice size hole to appear in the hard wood and a nearby painting to drop to the floor. Blood slowly dripped down the side of his fist as harsh splinters pierced his skin, but he did not seem to notice, or if he did he did not care. How dare she?! She had taken everything now! His home, his pride, his people, and now his precious pistol. Apparently nothing was safe from the 'mighty hero of Albion.'

Scoffing in disgust, he spat at the cursed named that was Sparrow and trudged onwards to try and uncover the Heroine's hiding place. Little did he know, she was no more than five feet away from him. If the hole that he had created had been a little more to the left, he would have been able to see into a secret room that had been added after he left for Samarkand. He would have seen the small room's walls were completely covered in papers, maps, and portraits of some of Albion's most wanted men and women. Several of them had a large 'X' crossed over them while others had bullet holes. He would have seen his pistol sitting forgotten on one of the three desks that cramped up the room. But more importantly, he would have seen the pacing Sparrow spewing dark curses of her own.

The hidden room was her own private trophy room of sorts. Though she did not really follow the path of Albion's Hero like she once did, she would still hunt down and kill those who did not deserve to walk the land they befouled. Bandits, Assassins, Murderers... All had fallen under her blade and bullet, which left quite a few grateful Guards as well as some pissed off Assassin Guilds. There had been many times where she had woken up in the dead of night to see a man or woman cloaked in dark robes, a dagger raised to plunge into her heart. There had been several very close calls, but she had always made it out with only minor scrapes and bruising. There had even been a few times where the Guild would offer her a place in their ranks if she joined the. Her response would be a bullet in the messenger's head before having the body dumped out into the sea. However this time... this time had put Sparrow on complete edge, and for good reason to as she knew exactly who it was that wanted her dead.

Shoving her hand in one of her pockets, she pulled out the dagger that was meant to tear out her throat. It looked like any other dagger with a thick, curved blade made of dark metal; however it was the handle that had caught her attention. It was covered with dark symbols and the very end was curved to take the shape of a crescent moon, which in turn was pierced by a small dagger replica. She had seen the exact same design before... a long time ago.

Snapping her head towards one of the desks, she began to shift through the monstrous stacks of papers, seeking one image in particular. It didn't take her long to find what she sought, and when she did, she shoved all other papers completely off the desk and placed the single one she held down on the now free desk. It was an older WANTED sign with the image of a young, clean shaven man with short black hair and piercing, cold eyes. Her own eyes glowing with fiery rage, she looked at the image in a mixture of disgust and anger before slamming the dagger through the image and into the hard wood desk. The blade pierced and dug right in between the smirking man's eyes.

Sparrow had thought him dead long ago. The man that had faced her with an army of bandits and a flurry of daggers. The man that had stared into her eyes with cold, deadly insanity.

"Nox..."

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Darkness. Such a cold and malicious element, void of life and warmth. A cold, dark world where the strongest of evils thrived. "Such a beautiful element." a soft sigh echoed in the darkness as a tall man lazily rested his head against a gloved hand, brushing away his dark hair from his equally dark eyes. His free hand quietly played with a dagger as he watched the shadows dance with restless ambition. Closing his eyes, he took in a deep breath, tasting the cold air as if it were a sweet, rare wine. "Had I known of it glorious beauty, I would have embraced it years ago." he whispered with a faint moan, a cruel smile playing across his lips.

A faint echo sounded around him, causing his eyes to snap open and him to grip his dagger tightly in his gloved hand. "Enter!" His shout echoed about him as well before fading away. A low creaking followed as a fat, squat man bumbled in.

"My lord." His squeaking voice resembled a dying rat with its tail caught in a door. It was cringe worthy to say the least. "The messenger was found washed up on the shore, the mark of the hunter upon his head." The dark man hummed softly as he took in the information, his hand beginning to twirl the dagger once more. It was no surprise to him. How many had she killed before the last? How many has washed up upon the shores with her mark imprinted on their bodies? The fat man watched him to a while with discomfort before speaking again. "Shall I... send out another, sir?"

"No." The response was quick and sharp, causing the fat man to jump. "It will make no difference. The message has been sent and all the pieces have been set in their places. It's only a matter of time now." With a flick of his hand, the dagger dropped and pierced the arm of the 'throne' he sat upon, a sickening sound emitting from it as he did so. As dark liquid began to drip down to the cold ground below, the fat man licked his lips in fear. A chilling silence fell upon the chamber as the dark man stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"My Lord?" His eyes snapped to the sniveling rat before him, narrowing darkly at the interruption.

"Leave." he hissed darkly, gripping his knife and pulling it out of the arm it was embedded in, causing a torrent of cold blood to flow. The fat man eyed the blood fearfully, taking a step back before running out of the room. Another cruel smile played across his lips as he rose up from his seat and began to wander through the darkness. "And so everything is set into place and soon the hunter shall become the hunted."

A low, dark chuckle emitted in the warren of his mind as something black began to seep inside of him. It was like a black sludge that slowly crept across an open water, poisoning it, corrupting it. Turning its once crystalline waters into a dark ebony. _**'Just remember our bargain. You shall have your revenge only after I have what I desire.' **_He stopped walking for a moment, a grim look tugging across his lips. He never did like it when _it_ spoke to him. To him, it felt as if someone violated his mind, his very thoughts and memories.

Forcing his grin back to his face, the man continued through the dark chamber until he happened up a pedestal. Atop it, sat a white mask with gold, red, and violet carvings. Running his hand across it, the man felt a dark stirring rise up. "I would not dream of it. I am, after all, a man of my word."

'_**For your sake, Nox, you better be.'**_

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As the day continued to seep away, as did Reaver's patience. He has spent the entire day hunting down that infernal woman and his beloved gun with no results. Enough was enough. He was going to find her if he had to tear down the damn mansion board by board. He had tried confronting Hammer and Garth too, however the Hero of Strength had managed to slip away into town while the Will User once again locked himself in the study, placing a small barrier at the door to keep him from breaking it down. Even the maids and Norman had managed to elude him for all these hours, afraid that he would snap their necks. This left the Hero of Skill to do the only other thing he could think of. For the past several hours, he had all by destroyed the interior of the house in an attempt to drive Sparrow from whatever hole she was rooted in.

Vases were knocked from their stands or shattered against the walls. Paintings and tapestries were ripped apart. Anything and everything that wasn't nailed directly into the ground were tossed about and smashed against anything that had the misfortune of being in its flight path. Statistically, the moment that Sparrow say what he had done, there would be a good chance that Reaver would find himself tossed out into the sea with stone chained to his ankles. But in that moment of rage and desperation, Reaver just couldn't care less what the woman would do so long as he was reunited with his gun. Now if only she would show up!

Growling darkly, Reaver picked up one of the few vases that still remained intact and chucked it towards the other side of the hall... just as Sylver was rounding the corner.

The human-formed Balverine, hearing something flying his way, had just enough time to duck before the vase crashed and shattered against the wall beside him. Looking at the broken pieces for a moment, he slowly turned to eye Reaver with annoyance before looking behind and seeing the trail of destruction he wrought. "You do realize that Sparrow is going to skin you alive with a rusty butter knife when she sees what you have done?" While his voice was indifferent, a faint smirk danced across his lips. Having a rather strong distaste towards the Pirate Lord, one could not pay Sylver NOT to watch what his beloved mistress would do to Reaver in retribution. Hearing the Balverine's voice, Reaver whipped about. Ignoring the pain as the blood rushed to his head, he stormed over to the white haired man and grabbed him by his robe.

"Where is she?!" he demanded in a voice that would make Satan himself weep with pride. Looking down at Reaver's hands, Sylver reached up and quickly brushed the man's dirty hands away from him, his eyes glowing darkly.

"Assuming that you are speaking of Sparrow, I haven't the slightest idea of where she is."

This caused Reaver's eyes to narrow. "Don't give me that crap! You follow her as if you were her fucking shadow! How in the hell can you _not_ know where she is?!" Sylver's eye began to twitch as a low growl worked its way up his throat. Did this man have rocks in his head or something?! If he didn't know where Sparrow was, then he didn't know! Though... just that thought alone ruffled his fur the wrong way. Knowing that she had a knack for attracting and causing trouble, he did not like it when she was out of his sight. And with Reaver running out destroying everything in his path to find her, he was somewhat grateful that she had pretty much vanished since last night. Not that she couldn't take care of herself, but still...

Turning his attention back to the glowering man before him, Sylver tilted his head slightly so that he could glower back. "Use that thick skull of yours for a moment. You have been making all sorts of ruckus for the better part of the day, practically tearing the manor apart. And yet, through it all, she has not appeared to stop you. Now what do you think that means?" He spoke as if he was talking to a five year old throwing a temper tantrum... or rather, in this case, a man that was well over 600 years old who was currently throwing a temper tantrum. Reaver opened his mouth to speak, however Sylver quickly cut him off. "Even your simple mind should be able to grasp the concept that if she did not respond for the first five hours or your racket then that must mean that she is not in the house."

To stress his point, he reached down and roughly tapped Reaver's head. If he had not been the beast that he was, Sylver would have found himself living a life without a right arm as Reaver suddenly drew out his cutlass and attempted to lop it right off. Thank the Archon for swift reflexes. Staring down at the now very livid man, Sylver scoffed and turned, walking away. "If you are that desperate, why don't you try the dojo out back? Just don't expect me to save you hide once she finds out that you trashed her home."

Reaver watched with blood-shot eyes as the human-turned canine wandered off, leaving him alone to stir over this new information. Out back? Why did he think of that hours ago?! Despite his resentment towards the mutt, Sylver had a point. If that woman had not heard him the first couple out hours, then she must not have been in the building.

Cursing lightly, he put his sword away and began to make his way towards the small building that had been crafted after Sparrow had taken over Bloodstone. The building was small and simple, mostly likely having just enough room to maneuver and swing a weapon or two. Two torches stood on either side of the double doors, glowing with a dark fire that gave the structure a rather ominous feel to it. As he neared it, he could make out the faint sounds of gunshots and steel against wood rotating back and forth. Drawing even closer, he could make out the grunts and yells of one very frustrated woman. Stopping right in front of the door, he steeled himself and then barged inside.

While it may have looked small on the outside, it was actually rather big on the inside. It had no furnishing, not including the several racks of different weapons and human size, wooden training dummies. Some of them were garbed in bandit uniforms, some were painting to look like creatures. One, he noted with mild surprise, had a rather comedic version of his face on it. It had a rather large number of bullet holes and slash marks on it as well. He also noted the large number of candles dotting the room, casting the large room in a warm glow. However, the majority of his attention fell upon the center of the room as Sparrow swung about, firing and slashing at one particular dummy with a wanted poster attached to its head. But it wasn't what she was doing that drew his attention, oh no. It was how she looked while doing it.

Despite the frigid evening air, she was wearing her corset and pair of tight pants that showed off her powerful legs as she swung them through the air, planting firm blows on the training dummy. And that was it. She didn't have on her boots, cape, or that those pair of goggles that seemed to taunt him so. Sweat trailed down the course of her body, reflecting the faint light of her will lines, causing her body to glow with an ethereal light. Her chestnut hair clung to the back of her neck tightly and even in the soft darkness, he could see her eyes glow with the same, fierce light that her body shone. Watching her from the entrance, Reaver felt his pent in rage slowly diminish, only to be replaced by a raging lust. Despite the hell that she was currently putting him through, the image of that sweaty, glowing body writhing beneath him played over and over in his mind. To him, she was more than another woman to bed. She was something he wanted to dominate, to tame. To make her do whatever he desired. Sparrow was every sense her namesake, a cageless bird that was free to roam the sky on a whim. And Reaver would be the one that would clip her wings, encaging her in the golden bars of passion that he would craft.

A **predatorial** look flashed through his eyes and he watched her dancing across the room, her blade soaring through the air and invisible foes and her gun firing at the poor training dummy and the image nailed on its head. When she finally emptied her pistol, she dropped it to the ground, grabbed her sword with both hands, and with a powerful swing, sliced through the dummy, causing its head to drop to the ground and roll across the floor. As it bounced off Reaver's boot, Sparrow eyed him with wild eyes, her sword still raised to kill. After a long minute of silence, Sparrow released the held in breath and lowered her katana, giving her arms some much needed rest.

"Don't sneak up on me like that." she groaned while running her hand through her sweaty hair. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

'_That's not all I can give you, little Sparrow.'_ he thought darkly as images continued to play through his mind. The wild look about her present whole new scenarios that threatened to drive him mad. Sparrow threatened to take the one thing he had left: his self control. It took all his will power not to tackle her to the ground, to force himself upon her, breaking those strong yet frail wings in half with a cruel twist of his hands. Despite his darkness and every raging libido, Reaver was no rapist. He preferred the art of seduction. Making everyone come to him, begging him to take them. But _she_... she was beginning to carve out a darkness that he did not want. A darkness that could easily snuff out her glorious light.

Turning about and picking up a discarded towel, Sparrow draped it over her head and sighed a tired sigh. Glancing over at her company, she felt an unease wash over her. She did not like his silence, nor did she care for that dark gleam in his eye. She had seen it before. 'The Light of Dominance', as she aptly named, a dark glow that would illuminate the eyes of those who desired something, whether it be power, flesh, or wealth... or to dominate. She had seen than glow before. Once long ago, back when she was shackled in the darkness that was a tower, surrounding by the pulsing heartbeat of raw Will and the cries of the insane.

'_**Obey...'**_

Sparrow's eyes narrowed darkly as she turned back to Reaver. "Well? What do you want?" Her sudden, stern voice snapped Reaver from his own dark thoughts. What did he want? He wanted a lot of things at the moment, but the look that promised a rather grisly death prompted him to choose one, which caused his mind to revert back to the state that it was in before he entered the dojo. A furious look crossed his face as he kicked the dummy head out of his way and stormed towards her.

"What do I want?!" he half shouted. "I want back what is mine!" Sparrow raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. She didn't say anything, but her look said it all. She had no idea what he was talking about. "My gun! You took my gun! I want my gun back! Now!" Sparrow placed a hand on her chin, then gently tapped her temple. Reaver's eye began to twitch wildly. Did she... did she really forget what had happened the previous night?! Everything that he previously wanted to do to her vanished and was replaced with the sudden urge to just shake her until the sense finally returned to her.

Sparrow then suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh yeah... I completely forgot I had that thing." As she flashed him an innocent, childish smile, Reaver toppled over and hit the hard ground face first. Was she for real? It was bad enough that he thought she was keeping it away from him just to spite him. But to find out that she had not given it back because she forgot she even had it?! He would have preferred the former explanation rather than the latter as it did less damage to his already bruised ego and pride.

Stepping over the fallen Reaver, Sparrow moved to a nearby gun rack and tossed him is beloved .48. Jumping up faster than any living being should, he caught the well used pistol and began to hug it like a child and his long lost teddy bear. Sparrow watched with a mixture of fascination and disturbance. "You're pathetic, you know that right?" Reaver gave her a small glare, but more or less continued to ignore her. While he coddled his 'precious' pistol, Sparrow rolled her eyes while blow a loose strand of hair away from her face. "Men and their toys." she muttered while walking out of the dojo. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with Reaver and his rather strange mood swings. _'Wonder what Sylver is up to?'_ she thought with a cat-like smile as she began to make her way towards the manor.

It took a good minute before something suddenly donned on Reaver as he sat on the dojo ground with his pistol in hand. _'You do realize that Sparrow is going to skin you alive with a rusty butter knife when she sees what you have done?'_ As Sylver's words sang in his head, he felt a dark chill run down his spine. Snapping his head around, he saw that Sparrow had already left the dojo, mostly likely to head back to the now razed mansion. Racing out of the small building, he began to make his way towards the house. He had to stop her. He had to keep her from-

"REAVER!!!" The dark, pain promising battle cry caused him to stop short and his blood to run cold. If there was one thing he was beginning to fear it was the righteous fury of one very pissed off Sparrow. Turing around, Reaver began to make his way [rather speedily] towards Bloodstone, wondering what the patrons of the tavern were up to and how long he could avoid Sparrow's disastrous Chaos spell.

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**CE: Oh... my... god... I am so sorry for the long wait T.T I just hope that the wait fueled you anticipation for this update?**

**[dodges flaming pineapples]**

**Alright, alright! I'll try harder next time! To all those who have reviewed, I thank you for your kind words! And what's this? An old enemy has teamed with an even older enemy?! The suspense! [I swear this all sounded a lot better in my head than it does on paper... er... computer, or whatever] For those who do not remember Nox... GO BACK TO THE VERY FIRST CHAPTER! He may have started out small, but his role is a lot bigger than anyone thought! [evil laughter]**

**Ah-hem... Anyway, I digress. Hope you all enjoyed and do be a dear and leave a nice note in the review box! Go ahead. Just click on the little button below. CE and Company takes all reviews, flames, criticism, suggestions, cash, checks, and all major credit cards![hahaha]**

**PS: All typos and grammar mistakes you have witness through the course of this chapter is a result from lack of sleep, caffeine rushes, and the sudden urge to update as fast as I can so that you will enjoy and will continue to enjoy!**

**JA NE!**


	9. Chapter 8 Eyes

**When Darkness Falls**

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**CE: Woot! 2,000 hits and 24 reviews! And to show you just how much I love you all and your kind words, I shall present you with my newest project!**

**[shuffles through a backpack and bring forth a Jack of Blades Doll]**

**CE: Ta-da! A Jack of Blades Doll for every one of you!**

**Jack Doll: I...hate...you...**

**CE: Oh yeah, did I mention each one contains a sliver of his soul? So take great care not to turn your back on him or he might stab you with a butter knife or something.**

**Jack Doll: UNHAND ME, WOMAN!**

**[tosses doll to nearest reviewer and then throws the backpack to reviewer mob/pile]**

**CE: Have fun! And remember! It would be best not to allow your Balverine pup to chew on him! It was hard to collect enough of his soul for all the dolls! [laughs]**

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**This Chapter is brought to you by the song "****Emiya #0" by**** James Harris, album: Fate/another score -super remix tracks-**

**[One of the best techno/remix songs I have EVER heard!!!!]**

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**CE and company does not own Fable or Fable 2, she does, however own all rights to any and all characters, items, or magics not related to the game! :3 If you ever want to use them for any works of your own, please ask for permission [I will most likely always say yes] and send us a link to your masterpiece!**

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"Talking"

'_Thoughts'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Chaos Notes]

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**Chapter 8**

**Eyes of One that Would Stare Down a Demon...**

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_She was drifting... Drifting through a sea... A sea of darkness. Her body felt numb, deprived of any feeling and warmth; her mind was blank as she stared up as the sea of darkness that drifted above her. How long had see been drifting in this darkness? How long had it been since she last felt the sun's embrace upon her flesh, the feel of the free wind play through her hair, or the tender feel of soft grass beneath her feet? It felt like it had been an eternity and a day since she heard the laughter of children as they raced through the city or the tender feel of her beloved companion's fur through her fingers. She couldn't even remember the sound of his voice. She couldn't remember... anything. It all just seemed to fade away within this darkness._

'_Maybe... I too will fade away...' Her thoughts echoed around her as is she had spoken them out loud, her tone hinting that she would almost welcome it. A gentle orb of light then suddenly sprang out of the darkness, dancing above her with mirth. She stared at it for a long while, at least what seemed like a long while, before she felt her body lift up on its own until she was standing right in front of the little light. Raising up her arm, she gently touched the light with trembling fingers. It felt warm and gently... so why did she fear it so. As her fingers penetrated it, a blinding light burst from the darkness, causing her to cry out in pain and shield her eyes._

_When the light died away and she recovered her eye sight, she found herself flying... no, rather _floating_, above a large mass of people. People of all shapes, sizes, and colors. People of the world. People of _Albion._ They all stood and stared up at dark shadows that loomed above them with a mixture of rage, fear, and defiance. She, herself, found her eyes wandering to the shadows that glared down at the world below them. There were three: two men standing on either side of a woman. They each wore black armor that radiated a piercing blackness that caused any life around them to wither and die. The woman and the taller man, she did not recognize. But the third, the smaller man, she did. He had the same piercing and cold, golden eyes that seemed to taunt her in the veil of slumber._

"_Bow before us." the woman spoke, her voice colder than winter's night, blacker than the darkest of shadows. "Worship us as your rightful gods."_

_A single man stepped out from the crowd, his dark blue eyes shining with strong power. "We will not bow before you vile creatures." The people behind him cheered for his decision. The shadowed woman stared at the man with deadly eyes before raising up her hand. The world around them suddenly burst into flames. Cities were engulfed in a never ending fire as smoke rose up, clouding the sky until no light shinned upon the earth or its people. She could hear the people scream as their flesh slowly melted away. It seemed to last for years before the woman raised her hand once more, causing the fires to die away, leaving behind a world blackened by fire and soot._

"_Bow before us." she demanded once more, her tone more forceful. Another man walked from the people, his body trembling slightly with fear. "We will not bow before you." He spoke with a faint tremble. The people behind him cheered for his answer, however it was weaker than the last. The woman motioned to the man to her left, who then stepped forward. Raising up his hand, he lifted the seas up to the darkened sky, flooding the world with deadly force. As the waters raised towards her, she tried to cry out, only to find her voice had left her body. Raising up her arms in an attempt to shield herself, she found the water passing _through _ her, leaving her unchanged and unharmed. Her eyes wild with fear, she watched as everything was swept away with the water. Like the fire before it, it seemed to last for years before the man raised up his hand and the waters retreated once more._

"_Bow before us." whispered the dark woman once more, her voice a cruel mixture of tenderness and fury. "And we shall bring peace to the land."_

_A third man ventured from the crowed. She could see his body tremble as his fear practically radiated from him. "We... will not bow." His quivering voice betrayed what little courage he had mustered to walk forward. The people behind him cheered a third time, however it was faint and weak, fearful of what the three shadows would do next. The woman motioned to the smaller man to her right, who stepped forward and raised his arm. She watched with rage and fear as the people below began to lose their sanity. Man slew man, mothers abandoned their children, friend turned against friend. People raped, murdered, stole, and corrupted others as meaningless violence engulfed Albion, bathing its land with innocent blood. This seemed to last longer than the fires and waters before the man raised his hand once more, releasing the people from his insane clutch._

"_Bow before us." This time, no man walked from the crowd to challenge their rule. Instead, the people fell on their knees, accepting the three shadows as their lords and masters. The darkness that surrounded them suddenly rose up from their bodies, seeping into the world, corrupting it, eroding it. Everything began to fade into the darkness, leaving her trapped into the cold realm in between. However... she was not alone. Like before, she found herself caught in the darkness with the same man that threatened to take away her very sanity._

_This time, he did not move towards her. He simply stared at her with those cold, insane gold eyes and even though he wore his mask, she could feel that dark grin play across his lips. "Enjoy the show, my little bird?" His voice was a low chuckle filled with amusement. She felt tears of rage sting the back of her dark blue eyes as she forced herself not to charge at him and slam her fist into his porcelain face. How dare he? How dare he make her watch those people suffer and then look upon her with amusement, knowing that she knew she could not do a thing to help them?!_

"_Why are you showing me these things?!" she demanded, finding her voice at last. "Who the hell are you and why are you tormenting _me_?!" her chest heaved as she forced every ounce of breath in the demands. He stared at her for a minute, a long pause hanging over them as the last of her words faded into the darkness. He then began to move towards her. His slow and deadly steps reluctantly reminded her of a cat stalking a mouse with a broken leg. She tried to retreat from his advancement, only to find her legs transfixed where she stood. They felt chained down and no matter how hard she tired, she could not move them. She could only watch in fear as he moved closer and closer until he was mere inches from her. Reaching down, he entangled his metal hand in her hair, forced her to look up at him._

"_That woman never told you, did she?" His metallic voice was a mixture of enjoyment and annoyance. "She never told you the truth of your heritage, the curse that flows through your blood?" Moving his hand from her hair, he began to gently trace a claw down her cheek. She tried to move her head away, however he quickly grabbed her by her chin and forced her to look up at his deadly eyes. "It does not matter. You will soon know my name. You will come to fear and love it." His voice pierced her like a knife as he suddenly forced her closer to him. She felt her heart begin to race as his hot breath seeped from his mask and played across the crook of her neck. "This world shall burn..." he whispered into her ear. "And you will be the one that strikes the match."_

_With that, he suddenly let go of her and moved a step back, causing her body to fall. However, instead of stopping, she continued to fall. She stared up in fear as the man watched her fall, his eyes alight with evil glee. "I look forward to the day we will meet face to face, my little bird." she heard him call out as the darkness began to rap itself around her._

-----

With a cry, Sparrow ripped herself from her bed and once more found her face greeting the cold floor with a powerful and load thud. Groaning in pain, she tenderly rubbed her now sore nose. "Dammit!" she moaned while gripping the bed and forced herself up to her feet, popping her neck along the way to try and ease the soreness. "This needs to stop!" she shouted to no one in particular while flopping back down on the bed to stare up at her ceiling in an attempt to sort the thoughts in her mind. What the hell was causing these dreams? Was she going crazy? Did Reaver put something in her drink as pay back for beating the every living shit out of him after she found out that he demolished half her house? None of it was making sense. Who was the man that mercilessly haunted her dreams and mind? What did he mean by '_That woman never told you, did she'? _What woman?

Growling in frustration, she quickly sat up and began to ruffle her hands through her hair roughly, threatening to pull it out. So many questions were filling her mind she thought it would explode. "GAH! A girl shouldn't have to go through these things so early in life!" she growled darkly while jumping out of the bed and wrapping her robe around her. Sleep would be impossible now so she would do the next best thing.

"Time to pay the creatures of Wraithmarsh a must needed visit."

-----

"Did you feel that?" Lifeless eyes turned from the world below to look into cold, blue depths as a tall man stepped from the shadows, his many metallic accessories jingling slightly as he moved.

"I did. I fear that it is only a matter of time before he makes contact." whispered the seeress as he moved to stand beside her. They looked out over the horizon and saw something that none other could. Dark clouds began to play across the horizon, clouds tilled with tainted will power. To normal eyes, they would have looked like any other storm clouds, however to those with the gift of Sight, they represented a dark omen.

"It may already be too late. With the Little Flower's death, the stones have begun to awaken." The man's voice was soft and filled with countless ages. "Contact is inevitable at this point. Time is not on our side. Perhaps it is time for fate to lend a helping hand."

The cloaked woman nodded faintly. "You will find her in the port town of Bloodstone."

"You will not be accompanying me?"

She shook her head. "Mt memories of that place are not very fond."

He nodded in understandment. He knew of that place and her connection to it. A city cursed to live on the edge of terrible memories. Only the most cold hearted of people could walk through it without remorse for what transpired those fateful nights hundreds of years ago. An uneasy silence washed over then before the man turned and began to walk away. However, before vanishing into the darkness of the Spire, he stopped. "Tell me one thing, Theresa. It is true what they say? Is she really the one?"

"You doubt my word?" she responded without turning.

"There have been many to claim that they have the blood. There have been many false leads to find the true decedents. How can you be so sure that she is one of them?" Another, longer silence followed his words before she reached up and gently placed a hand on the large window before her.

"She has his eyes..." her voice, though usually emotionless, was filled with forlorn desire and pain. "Those eyes that would stare down a demon in defiance."

He did not say another, but rather stared at her for a moment before fading into the shadows. Theresa's hand trembled slightly against the glass as she continued to stare out across the horizon with eyes that could see more than any human should. Six hundred years had passed... and yet his dark shadow still hung over her. Balling up her fist, she slammed it against the window, causing it to crack. This time... he would not get the best of her.

-----

Hammer wandered through the Bloodstone Manor in a fit of boredom. Ever since the party a few nights back, nothing really seemed to happen. It was rather eventful yesterday when Sparrow demonstrated her dominance over Strength by literally twisted Reaver's limbs around until his right foot touched his left hand. The Hero of Skill tried to fight back, however the threat of pissing off the Heroes of Strength and Will as well as a pure blood Balverine prevented him from really doing anything. When she was finally down making a human pretzel, she surprised everyone by laughing cheerfully, thanking Reaver for allowing her to release some well pent in frustrations, and then promptly healed the sorry bastard!

Since then, the Pirate King had all but vanished in what she assumed was shame for getting his ass handed to him by a woman. However, Sparrow had also disappeared not but two hours ago. She tried asking Garth, but he hadn't the slightest clue. How would he? Ever since Sparrow opened her home for them to stay in, he had spent nearly every waking minute in the study doing god knows what! Reaver was no help because he had holed himself up somewhere. All that left was her cute, canine companion her whereabouts. Sylver was, more or less, Sparrow's very shadow, so there was a good chance that he would know where she wandered off... Assuming that, for once, he did not wander with her.

With her arms tucked behind her head, Hammer continued to venture through and around the manor in hopes of finding any clues of her friend's location. She finally did find one when looking up and sighting a familiar, bulky, furry shape on the roof. "Hey!" she shouted up, drawing the Balverine's attention. "Can you come down for a second? I need to ask you something!" The white Balverine stared down at the large woman below and had a faint, gruff sound before jumping down. The moment his paws touched the ground, he reverted to his human form and looked down at the Hero of Strength. This caused Hammer to take a small step back. Damn, he was tall! She knew he was pretty tall when he could look down at Sparrow and Reaver [who were the tallest of the four Heroes], but compared to herself, Sylver seemed to dwarf Hammer.

"What is it that you need?" he asked with a slightly detached tone. Whether it was his usual tone or something else, she did not know, however she would not try the beast's patience. Now if only she could just sort her mind enough to remember why she was looking for him in the first place...

"Uh... Oh yeah! Have you seen Sparrow anywhere? I've been looking for her all morning and I can't find her anywhere." Sylver looked down at the bulky woman for a moment before shaking his head. Much to his dismay, Sparrow had managed to slip pass him and venture off somewhere. He did not like her being out of his sight for too long, not with her tendency to attract and/or cause trouble. He had expressed this many times to her as well, however she would still slip pass him every now and then.

"I haven't seen her since last night. I do have a slight idea though." He turned away from Hammer and looked to the distant shadows of Wraithmarsh. "Her scent drifts towards Wraithmarsh." His eyes narrowed slightly at the thought of her going in alone. It was hard for them to make it through when they were together and she knew this, and yet she still went off by herself.

"Wraithmarsh?" Hammer did not even try to hide her concern. No matter how much strength, skill, or will a person had, that cursed place was not a force to be taken lightly. "Well then, what are we waiting for?! I have to go and try to find her!" She attempted to run passed him, however he quickly reached out and snatched her wrist, causing her to stop and look back at him. "What are you doing?"

The Balverine shook his head. "If she went there on her own without telling anybody, then she must have a good reason. Sparrow may be reckless and even cocky, but she is no fool. She would only go there on her own if she knew what she was doing." He let go of Hammer's wrist and looked back towards the marsh. "We just have to have a little faith... and hope that she doesn't do anything to get herself killed." Despite his words, Sylver wanted nothing more than to storm the marsh, find the troublesome girl, and drag her out. However, a single problem kept him from doing just that. If she really did go to Wraithmarsh on her own, then it was to vent and immerse herself in the thrill of the hunt. Being there would prove to be a fatal mistake [as some had unfortunately experienced] as none was safe from her 'game.'

Hammer stared at him for a moment before sighing heavily. "Well... guess there's nothing else to do but drink." she groaned with boredom. A little excitement would have down her wonders, however Sylver made it seem as if she would have gotten more than she cared to experience.

"I think I'll join you." Sylver suddenly spoke as she began to make her way back to the manor. A large smile played across her lips as she nodded in agreement. As the two walked back into the manor, she thought to herself, _'Maybe this day won't be so bad after all.'_

-----

Sparrow gave a blood starved cry as she drove her katana into the head of what would be her twenty-fifth Hollow Man. Ever since she had woken up from that dark dream, she had been carving her way through Wraithmarsh and its seemingly endless supply of creatures. Hollow Men rose up from the ground like a field of daisies in summer, giving her all the attention that she craved. However, they were the weakest of the marsh's inhabitants, and Sparrow had her eyes on a much bigger prize. Word at the bar claimed that there was a banshee somewhere in the endless fog. And because they were few in number and rather difficult to kill, Sparrow had made it her prime directive to hunt it down. Now if only she could go two feet without being mobbed by a group of undead warriors...

Balverines were a small issue as well. It seemed that they formed a bit of a society of their own, the more intelligent purebreds, that is. And because of her own Balverine companion, they made her death top priority. If one had waited about an hour before walking into the marsh behind her, they would have seen a rather large trail of Hollow Men remains [often in the form of discarded weapons and ash] as well as an incalculable number of Balverine bodies. The fog even began to take a faint reddish tone from all the blood. She finally got a bit of a reprieve when they decided to step back.

As she placed a well aimed bullet in the last of the Hollow Men than surrounded her, she groaned with exhaustion and allowed her body to slump down on a nearby rock. Ignoring the slimy feeling on her bare legs, she proceeded to reload her pistol and her blunderbuss. She had already used up more ammo than she really cared too and she was sure that her blade was in some much needed TLC as well. Once everything was reloaded and strapped back onto her body, she leaned back on her hands to stare up at the bleak sky above her. It wasn't anything special, however she continued to stare up, mostly out of boredom and need to rest her tired body.

Through the course of the day, she had desperately tried to forget about her dream and the words that the dark man had said to her. But it seemed the harder she tired, the louder his voice echoed in her mind. Who was he? Why was he showing her all these things? What connection did she have with him to make him haunt her dreams like a dark plague? Whatever the reasons were, Sparrow was beginning to hope she would never find out. There was something about him that made every alarm in her mind go off. Every fiber in her being told her to keep as far away from him as possible and it was almost as if they had met before. This, she knew, was impossible because she never forgot a face, especially if it belonged to someone [or something] like that.

"GAH!" she shouted for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last few hours. Reaching up, she began to run her hands through her hair. "The more I try to make sense of this, the more confusing it gets! Can't I just get one, clear answer?!" she shouted in a voice loud enough for any god that would be looking down at her to hear.

As well as the very banshee that she was trying to come across.

A loud, piercing wail followed her cry, causing her spine to stiffen and bumps to form across her flesh. Quickly getting up to her feet, Sparrow pulled out her katana with one hand and her pistol in the other. Turning herself in a small circle, she tried to find the source of the wail as the fog began to deepen until it was almost impossible to see no more than three inches from one's face. Cursing her lack of control, Sparrow forced small bubbles of her Will up to try and illuminate the fog. It was a trick she had picked up years ago on one of her sea 'visits.' As small orbs of light began to glow around her, she was able to raise her blade quick enough to avoid the deadly strike of one of the banshee's children. Pausing for a half a second, Sparrow shot a bullet into the little shadow's head, causing it to shriek before vanishing. At least three more followed their 'sister', swinging their blades in an attempt to draw blood. Now on the defense, Sparrow quickly countered the rather accurate blows with both her sword as well as her pistol. This was one of the things she hated about banshees. They would always send their 'children' out first and they would always cause her to pause. One reason was that they looked like little girls, the other being as [to her] they looked like Rose.

However, these feeling would quickly die away as they continued to strike at her, aiming their blades at her weaker points. One of them managed to cut through her defense and dug its blade into the side of her leg. Biting her lip hard to prevent her from screaming, she whirled her uninjured leg around and slammed it into the child's head. As it vanished with a scream, so did its blade, but the damage was still done. Taking a couple steps back, she reached down and pulled out anther burst of Will energy. The air around her began to head up to the point the swampy waters below them began to boil. As the air caught fire, the last two shadow children screamed out in pain before vanishing to join their brethren. Sparrow barely had a second to rest before a gnarled, clawed arm sudden sprang out from the fog. Crying out in surprise, Sparrow could only drop to the ground to prevent those deadly claws from taking off her head. Looking up, she watched the fog shift around her, revealing a towering banshee drifting mere feet from her. It was like any other banshee: long, torn red rags, pale clawed arms that seemed to almost always clutch its head in despair, faint strands of twisted hair falling from the shadows of its hood.

**"Succumb to my embrace."** it whispered darkly, the air chilling as it breathed its words. This was the other thing that made them formidable foes. They would whisper the target's darkest regrets and fears, demoralizing it to the point that they would welcome death's sweet hold. Sparrow had heard many things from them, mostly of Rose or her beloved Steel. There had been many close calls, but she would always pull through. This time would be no different.

"I think not." she responded in a cold voice.

As it reached out to strike her, Sparrow rolled out of the way and began to fire bullets into its body. It wailed in pain, causing Sparrow's ears to ring painfully. The third reason why they were a pain in the ass to travelers was their loud voices. It was enough to shatter glass from several miles away. Sparrow staggering slightly, the banshee whipped around and charged towards her. As she did her best to deflect its blows with her sword, she felt its icy breath play across her skin.

**"You still hear Rose's death cry when you try to sleep at night, don't you?" **It's words struck truer than one would think. Even after avenging her death, Sparrow would still dream of Rose and the man that took her life before she had a chance to bloom. Feeling her strength fading slightly, the banshee pressed its attacks, forced her once more into a more defensive situation.

**"Rose would have done anything to protect you. She even gave her life, and what have you done about it? Nothing, nothing at all."** The creature's words cut through Sparrows heart painfully. Despite the fact that she knew that it was only playing on her own fears, it didn't make it any less painful. She cursed darkly as she tried to force the creature off of her. She had gone too long without killing one, making her forget just how morbid they were and just how well they played on fears and weaknesses. Making a risky move, she reached up with her pistol and shot it right in its head. Wailing once again, it lifted off of Sparrow and staggered a few feet away. The ringing in her ears grew louder as she suffered through its cry up close and personal, almost forcing her to her knees in pain. She glared darkly at the beast as it clutched its head in agony. Even after a headshot, it was still alive.

'_Damn their durability!'_ Reason number four why they were hard to kill. The banshee suddenly let its arms go limp while tilting its head back. Sparrow's eyes widened as she knew what was about to happen. Digging her blade into the tainting ground, Sparrow could only hold on as the creature began to suck everything towards it. Sparrow grunted as she held onto her sword, praying that the earth would not suddenly come lose and uproot her. The fifth and final reason why she hated banshees was because they downright sucked, both literally and figuratively [holy hell, lame pun]. It only last for about a minute, but before Sparrow had the chance to recover, the dark spirit moved with a speed that she did not know they had and slammed its gnarled arms into her body, causing her to slam into a nearby dead tree before sliding down to the cold, wet ground.

Groaning in pain, Sparrow spat out a glob of blood that pooled in her mouth. As the banshee began to drift towards her, Sparrow attempted to use her sword as leverage to get back up. **"Did you know Rose didn't die right away from that shot? No, she watched you fall through that window, heard as your body thudded against the ground and cried bitter tears before a final shot from Lucien ended her life."** She looked up with a mixture of anger and pain as the banshee hovered practically on top of her. She had never heard one say that before and it cut her even more than its previous words. Had Rose truly lived long enough to watch her little sister get shot out of a window and free fall from the high tower? As tears began to sting the back of her eyes, she shut her eyes tightly as the banshee raised up its arm top end her life.

However, the blow did not come. Instead, the banshee screamed in pain as something sharp and powerful cut through its body like a hot knife through butter. As its body faded away, the fog began to retreat until there was nothing left. Sparrow waited a long minute before opening one eye. Seeing that it was gone, she opened another to try and figure out what just happened and where it went. What she would, however, was a tall man in dark blue robes and golden armor. Slung over his shoulder was a large golden scythe. She couldn't really make out his features in the eternal darkness that was Wraithmarsh, however she was able to see that he had something wrapped around his face. A cloth, or maybe a bandage?

"Who are you?" she asked while getting back up to her still shaky feet. The man did not answer. Instead he simple stood there, staring at her with piercing eyes. This made her rather uncomfortable. Why shouldn't it? He had just killed a banshee with a single swipe of that blade of his and now he was just standing there staring at her. This caused her to glare slightly at the stranger as she began to wonder whether he was friend or foe

-----

**CE: And that is where we will leave this chapter off! [once again begins to dodge flaming fruit] Aw come on! At least it didn't take me several months to update! Anyway, probably not my best chapter and a bit drawn out, but don't worry! Things are about to get interesting!**

**Excuse my horrible battle writing. I'm not that good at it and I probably repeated things! Plus I started writing this at about 8PM and finally ended at about 10:30AM... so I'm too beat to find all my obvious and less than obvious mistacks. [crawls into special hole and dies again]**

**Hope you enjoyed enough to look forward to the next chapter!**

**JA NE!**


	10. Chapter 9 Power

**When Darkness Falls**

**-----**

**OMGOMGOMGOMG!!! After years of hunting and searching I have finally found it!!! [goes ecstatic] The 'IT' I am refereeing to is the "Parasite Eve" novel and movie [the long distant prequel to the popular Playstation game "Parasite Eve"]. I got the movie now and it's only a matter of time before I get the book! I'm in so much joy I could... I could just... [blows up]**

**Do not own!**

**I'm sorry but this one is going to be a short one due to the fact that a very important, very LONG event shall be occurring in the next chapter.**

**-----**

**This chapter is dedicated to YoMuM, whose threatening pineapples and wrath have kept me going!**

**[eyes YoMuM's big pineapples and chuckles nervously]**

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"Talking"

'_Thoughts'_

**Inner Voices/Sylver while in animal form**

[Chaos Notes]

-----

**Chapter 9**

**Power is Meaningless if You Do Not Have the Strength to Control It...**

-----

Many a thoughts drifted through Sparrow's cluttered mind as she stared up at the now rather interesting ceiling as she laid sprawled on her bed. How long she had been in this state, not even she really knew. The hours just seemed to tick by as she tried to sort through the many thoughts that have plagued her mind since she returned from the swamp. Since that... _man_ appeared. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as his words continued to echo through her mind.

"_You are much weaker than I was led to believe."_

Sparrow began to grind her teeth. How dare he?! He had waltzed in from the shadows and declared her weak after he saved her sorry hide. Her pride took one hell of a beat down... as did her body. Her anger was something she normally had control over. But that man... there was something about him that just made her snap. Something that drew her to raise her sword and launch herself at him. But no matter how hard she tried, she could not land a single blow. He would dodge like no other man could. He would be there one moment... and then way over there the next.

"_You are going to have to do better than that if you have any chance of facing what is to come."_

She had also tried firing several rounds towards him, but they would just stop. Stop in midair and fall into the swampy waters. This would only further her rage and force her to try even harder. But the harder she tried, the more he seemed to just... toy with her. As a last resort, she sent out a powerful blast of fire at him. Just when it seemed like she would finally get a hit on him, he raised his hand the Will induced fire ball vanished. It simply, freakin' VANISHED! At that moment, her anger dropped to sure shock. All she could do was start dumbly, her mouth gabbing like a fish out of water. In all her years as a Hero, she had never seen anyone simple make a Fireball vanish with the flick of his wrist. Even Garth at his best could only divert a Will Attack. And he was the strongest Will User she knew. Well... _was_ the strongest she knew.

It took her and hour before she finally stopped trying to attack him. Mainly cause she was forced to the ground via exhaustion. As she laid there in the grubby water, her chest heaving, the man stepped towards her and looked down. She had never really gotten a good look at him since he stayed in the marsh's shadows, but as he towered over her his image was imprinted in her mind for all eternity. It terrified her to no end, to say the least. He looked like he belonged in a tomb in the middle of some god forsaken desert rather than wandering around screwing with peoples' minds. What little skin he had was dried and clung to his bones, looking as if it would crumble to dust from the slightest of breezes. Because of his lack of blood and the right amount of skin, his mouth spread over a large area of his face and looked as if it were in a permanent snarl. He wore a long blue robe with pieces of what looked like ancient armor and a blue cloth wrapped around the most of his head and across his face, bringing out the fierceness of those dark eyes as he towered above her.

If the power that radiated from him did not scare her, his appearance certainly did.

"_Power is meaningless if you do not have the Strength to control it..."_ he spoke while looking down at her heaving and sore body. But it was the last thing he said as he drifted back into the darkness from which he came that turned the knife in her heart. _"If you are indeed his blood... Then there is no hope for this dying world."_

Sparrow sighed heavily and turned to the side, tracing a finger in the soft sheets under her. What did he mean by 'facing what is to come'? Just who was he? Why was if she felt something inside her stir as he stared down at her with those piercing eyes? She knew that they had never crossed paths. She never forgot a face, especially one like _**that**_. And yet... deep down, she felt a sense of familiarity to him. A kinship of sorts. Her blood tingled and her inner Will called out to his. They shared... something; that much she knew. But what?

A sudden pounding at her door caused her to jerk from her thought and her head to snap. Before she could utter a word, Hammer stepped into the room, her usual cheerful expression replaced with one of worry and growing battle lust.

"We have a problem." Sparrow had only heard her use that tone once since meeting her. It was the same tone she used when the priests buried her fallen father, when Theresa had taken her hand to guide her down a battle weary path. Nodding with a grim look of her own, Sparrow pulled herself from the bed, shoved her feet into her boots, slung her sleeveless jacket about her shoulders, and followed Hammer from the room.

-----

Hammer had gathered everyone of importance in the study: Sparrow, Sylver, Garth, Reaver, and two rather shady-looking men that Sparrow had never seen before. One was a younger, tall blond with a piercing blue eye; the other was concealed by an eye patch and was probably missing all together. The other was an older looking man with a scruffy face, quite a few scars, and medium black hair pulled into a tight braid.

"These are my informants, Tone and Jeq." She pointed to the tall blond first and then at mister scruff respectively. "They are my ears of Albion. It was Tone himself who told me of Reaver's existence ten years ago."

"And we are supposed to be impressed?" Reaver asked snidely, his arms crossed over his chest. "Surely everyone in Albion knows of my fame by now."

"More like infamy." mumbled Garth, causing Sylver to snicker slightly.

The two men both looked agitated, but made no move to correct the trigger happy Hero. Despite his fame in Bloodstone, he was a rather pain in the ass to find ten years back when the rest of the world was cut off from Bloodstone. The only time his name was ever mentioned outside of the corrupted city was in a bar and they often spoke of him as a daughter carting monster that would suck out your soul and leave your body to his pet Balverines, or something like that. Ignoring Reaver altogether, Hammer moved behind the two men and wrapped her large arms around them with her famous "grab-life-by-the-horns" grin.

"Nothing gets past these two." she beamed with pride, however it quickly faded. "Which is why I've called you in here. They've found something that might interest you. Remember that assassin that tried at you a few nights ago?" she asked Sparrow who nodded in response. "They've found more."

Moving away from the group, Hammer carefully cleared off the large desk and placed a large map on top of it. Motioning everyone to gather around her, she circled her finger around a small portion. "We're here, and the marsh is here." Tone, the blond with a single eye, suddenly placed his finger on the map as well, towards the heart of the marsh.

"An unusual wave of bandit activity has begun to radiate from this general area." As he picked up a pen and circled the corresponding area, Jeq stepped in.

"These bandits are unlike anything anybody has encountered." Like his face, his voice was rough and scruffy. "Most bandit movements and groups are disorganized with absolutely no leadership or intelligence. However this band is very well coordinated, organized, and highly intelligent."

Sparrow eyed the circled piece and turned to Reaver. "Hey, Reaver. Isn't this about where the Shadow Court is?" With his arms still crossed, he leaned over just enough to see where. This caused Sparrow's eye to twitch with annoyance. _'You could at least pretend to care, you stupid egomaniac...'_ Glancing over the map, his arms unfolded as he placed them on the table with a glare in his eyes.

"What the hell are those cursed spirits up to now?" he hissed more to himself.

"Maybe you forgot to pay your immortality bill." Sparrow with an almost devilish grin, causing Reaver to pull out his gun and tap it against the table with agitation.

"Do you really want me to shoot you?"

"At the rate you are going, you couldn't even hit the broad side of a barn."

"The only 'broad side' I am interesting in hitting is yours."

"Bring it on, Reaver! You're not the only one that knows how to fire a gun!"

Before the two Heroes could start a gun-war in the study, both Sylver and Hammer pulled the two away from each other and forced them to put away their guns. Clearing his throat, Jeq continued where he left off as Tone did his best to force back his laughter. "There is one other thing. Being the Hero of Albion yourself, I would assume you know what happens when a man is bitten by a Balverine?" Sparrow looked to the man with mild shock before looking to Sylver and then back to Jeq with a grim nod.

"The Balverine cursed is passed down through the saliva of the bite wound, forcing the host to transform both body and mind into one."

"Very good. It would seem that some of these bandits have begun this fusion." Sparrow's memory flashed back to that night of the party when one such creature attempted to slit her throat. "This is what has me worried. Human turned Balverines are not like pure bloods as I'm sure you are aware..." Jeq's voice faded slightly as he eyes Sylver, who in turn gave him a small glare back. "They are more aggressive and would attack anything and everything in sight, even other Balverine hybrids. To have so many in such a well organized group of bandits is impossible."

A heavy silence fell over the small group as their situation began to sink in. Hammer, Tone, and Jeq began to view their options and theories while Garth began to flip through a large book to try and figure out just how someone -or something- to control such a large number of hybrids. Sparrow fell silent as all the alarms in her mind began to ring. She knew damn well who it was behind this little army, the dagger found on the assassin's dead body proved it. Her silence did not go unnoticed. Reaver's eyes narrowed darkly as he eyed her. He had seen a small spark of recognition in her eyes.

"You know something, don't you?" he suddenly asked, causing everyone to snap their heads towards Sparrow. Mentally cursing the pirate, she sighed deeply and began her tale.

"I do have... a good bet. Ten years ago, shortly after we parted away in the Spire, I came across a band of bandits cheering their latest success. Their leader was a dagger twirling man named Nox." Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the dagger meant to take her life and placed it on the table, point at the decorated hilt. "He carried daggers with the same insignia."

"How do you know that?" piped Reaver once more.

"It's kind of hard to miss details when they are literally thrown in your face [dumbass]. Anyway, a White Balverine was seen in the area as well and as we were fighting, it appeared and carted him off to its lair." She glanced over at Sylver from the corner of her eye. Hearing her talk about his mother probably didn't bother him much since he hardly remembered her, but it was still thin ice for her. "That was the last I saw of him. I didn't see his body anywhere and I assumed that the Balverine killed him. But... now I'm not so sure. A Balverine hybrid carrying his insignia is too much of a coincidence."

With her arms crossed over her chest, another pause echoed around the room before Garth [of all people] spoke up. "With what we were just told, this Nox must then be a..."

"... A Balverine Hybrid himself." She finished. "But... something troubles me. Like Jeq said, they are highly aggressive. And unlike purebloods, they can't retain a human form after the curse takes a hold of their minds." she added while moving her hand to indicate Sylver who nodded in agreement. "So here is my question: how is it that a hybrid can bring together an organized band of bandits and other hybrids?" Her question took the others by surprise. They had not thought of that and that certainly was something to ponder. A feeling of foreboding began rise up from the darkest depths of her soul. Something was coming... something that... she was not sure she could control.

-----

A dark smile, that rivaled the very shadows that surrounded him, played across Nox's face as he looked over a small chess board. Picking up a black pawn, he moved it forward with deadly ambition. "And the game begins once again. Soon the Knight, Bishop, and Rook with fall and the Queen shall free the King." His eyes began to glow a deadly hue as his smirk became fangy. The pieces were set and now... it was only a matter of time.

-----

**CE: Eh... definitely not my best, but what can I say, my brain is currently being squeezed clean x.x I'll make it for the next chapter. The chapter that you've all [or at least most of you] have been waiting for! I'll do my best to get it posted as soon as human possible =P**

**All review are welcomed, I can handle anything thrown at me.**

**Special Thanks To: YoMuM and all my other loyal reviewers who flaming fruits of death and doom have kept me from abandoning this piece!**

**JA NE!**


	11. Chapter 10 Rebirth

**When Darkness Falls**

**[...][...][...]**

**CS: EDIT! Did not really like how this one ended, so I've decided to go in and edit a few things :3**

[...][...][...]

"Talking"

'_Thoughts'_

**Other Voices**

[Chaos Notes]

[...][...][...]

**Chapter 10**

**Rebirth of a Dark God...**

[...][...][...]

Anticipation. Restlessness. Fear and Excitement. All of these and more played through Sparrow's mind as she leaned against the cold balcony, her eyes fixated on the darkness that was Wraithmarsh. The hours seemed to fade into nothingness as she awaited her fellow Heroes to hurry up and prepare themselves for the upcoming battle that was sure to ensue. She had long ago donned her more battle friendly gear as well as a wide variety of weaponry that would prove their usefulness by the end of the night. Now, here she waited with great impatience as her companions argued over strategies. Hammer wanted to burst into the marsh in a blaze of glory, killing anything and everything that got in their way. Garth on the other hand wanted to study their opponent, observing their behavior, find their weakness, and then sticking accordingly. Reaver sided with Hammer, wanting nothing more that to show off his prowess while Sylver took Garth's side believing it the best way to keep alive.

Sparrow really didn't give two shits what they did as long as they did something and soon. As a woman of action, patience was not one of her virtues. All this waiting around and doing nothing, and allowing Nox and whatever other evils that awaited them time to prepare for their inevitable assault, was really beginning to tear at her mind. As proof of this, she had been tapping her foot in annoyance and ferventness, aching to do something other than standing around.

Groaning, Sparrow dipped her head down so that it met with the cool, marble railing. This was taking too long. At this rate they were going, Nox would surely die of old age rather that her sword through his throat.

Pushing herself from the balcony, Sparrow bound down the hall and to the study. The maids that she passed quickly moved out of the way and stared down the hall with grimacing looks. Her steps alone betrayed her frustration. As she closed in on the study, she could hear the voices inside arguing back and forth. Even after three long, tiring hours the four inside were still debating on their entrance alone.

"I'm telling you! If we don't deal with everything in our path outright, then they could easily come up behind us when we less need it!"

"And I'm telling you that we do not need to be wasting our energy so soon! By the time you smash everything in sight, you would not be able to hold that oversize 'mallet' of yours against our true foe."

"There is no fun in sneaking through the shadows. What is the point in wielding a blade or gun if you don't get to use it?"

"We aren't going there for _fun_, you twit! This isn't like a band of incompetent Hobbes or swarm of mindless Hollow Men! This is a well organized _army_ of bandits and cursed humans lead by _another_ cursed human who may or may not have someone controlling him!"

Pushing the doors open violently, Sparrow stormed into the study. However, none of the other four seemed to notice her and instead looked as if they were about to have their own private blood bath in her nice, clean study. Hammer looked as she was about to knock Garth's head off and Sylver's eyes began to turn black as his inner beast desired nothing more than to rip out Reaver's throat.

"Mallet? How about I knock your head off with this _mallet_?"

"Oi..."

"That is all you can about do. You believe that everything can be solved but smashing it."

"Oi?"

"Twit? Is that the best you can come up with, you over grown excuse for a hair ball?"

"Oi!"

"Don't tempt me you decease carting lout. I have a mind to gut you here and now, sparing the bandits the trouble of doing it themselves!"

"OI!"

"Incompetent Old Goat!"

Her nails began to dig into the wooden surface of the desk that separated them all from one another.

"Loud Barbarian Drunk!"

The corner of her eye began to twitch violently.

"Flee Ridden Mongrel!"

Her lower lip began to bleed as she bit down on it hard.

"Impudent Man Whore!"

A sudden and rather deafening explosion quickly followed the last insult, causing them all to jump violently and turn their heads to the pissed off Sparrow. In her hands was her ever famous blunderbuss, its barrel smoking. The ceiling above them crackled for a moment before large chunks fell and landed on the table. If they were to have looked up, they would have seen a couple of servants look down the newest hole of Bloodstone Manor.

Strapping her still smoking gun to her back, she leaned in, arms on the table and gave all of them a glare that would make the Commandant shiver. "We are getting nowhere." Her voice was a deadly calm, a raging fury buried not but an inch away. "How are we suppose to take down a massive movement of bandits and cursed if you people can't stop fighting one another?" She sounded like a mother scolding her four children to share a single tow. Hammer looked away, Garth grunted, Sylver mumbled, and Reaver simply glared with a faint ting of red on his face.

Pulling a large map of the marsh off of the wall, she placed on the table the Heroes surrounded, pulled out a marker, and commenced to circle various parts. "From what the scouts have confirmed, the main horde is here, here, and here." Pointing to the circles with the tip of her marker, she moved it up and created one big circle further up the map. "They surround this large area rather tightly, giving reason to believe that Nox is holed up somewhere in here." She tapped what looked like to be the center of the dead city that claimed the marsh hundreds of years ago. Looking up, she saw an unknown emotion flash across Reaver's eyes, but quickly dismissed it for the flickering light of the fire before she turned her attention back to the large map. Her tone became low and deadly calm. "Cut off a serpent's tail, and it burrows deep underground until it can recover. Cut off its head, the body will then wither and die. That is what we are going to do. Bandits depend on leadership to keep them in order. Without it, they will either fight amongst themselves or flee into different corners of the marsh. Strike at the heart, and the rest will die along with him. Understand?"

The other four looked up at her and nodded with grim understanding. "Good." She pushed herself up from the desk. "We leave at sunset, use the extra darkness to our advantage. I'm counting on you two to take down any Cursed that ventures too close _quietly_." she pointed to Garth and Sylver without looking up from the map. "Hammer and I will take down what gets in our path. And Reaver-" Pushing herself up from the table, she countered the glare the Pirate King was giving her with one of her own. "You will be covering our rear, shooting anything that decided to sneak up behind us."

"Pray tell, who died and put you in charge? In case you haven't noticed by now, Little Birdie, I don't take kindly to being ordered around by someone else." he challenged with his arms crossed over his chest, that ever so deadly grin playing across his lips as his trigger finger twitched. With speed that only a woman that had been through hell and back could ever possible have, Sparrow reached over, grabbed Reaver by his roguish shirt, and pulled half of his body over the table until she could look him right in the eyes, their noses nearly touching.

"The moment I saved your sorry ass from a rather painful death ten years ago, it became _mine_." The grin that flashed across her lips caused a sharp shiver to run down the pirate's back. The tone in her voice... Only one other woman had used that tone. A woman long before Sparrow... A woman that had plagued his mind every night for the past five hundred years. Sparrow suddenly released her hold rather roughly. "Play nice and we might talk about me not ripping off the only head you ever really think with every time you open your mouth."

Sylver stifled a snicker, Garth gave a rather uncomfortable grunt while shifting feet, and Hammer flat out laughed, causing another faint ting of red to creep across Reaver's face as his ego took one brutal stab. A ruthless pirate that would gladly sacrifice anyone in his former town to retain his youth, he was. But he was still human... ish. What more, he was still a man and Sparrow seemed to know just how to get men like him to back away. Ten years on the sea, making a name for herself, did wonders for her personality.

Slowly letting go of Reaver, she straightened herself and began to make her way out the door. "Sunset is only an hour away. I suggest you all bring everything you've got and pray to your gods. This is going to be a long night." The last part was more of a mumble to herself, but the message was clear to them all. As she walked out of the study, Sylver quickly followed suit like the shadow he was. The three who remained in the study looked at each other for a moment before dispersing to different corners of the manor to prepare themselves for the night they faced. As Sparrow had said... it was going to be a very long night...

[...][...][...]

"Do you really think that they have what it takes?"

"Have you no faith in your own blood?"

"I've seen her in battle. She could not defend herself from a mere Banshee without the aid of another."

"You forget. Despite what the stories told, when you fought the Three Gods, you did not act alone. Alone, they are weak. Only together, when they act as one, will they have the power to finally end this war that has lasted for so long."

"Do your eyes see this?"

"No. What lies ahead is unknown, even to my sight."

"And yet you remain convinced that this child can destroy something that not even I could."

"A child she may be, however she has the potential to become what my brother could not."

"..."

"Do not lose faith. She will see this to the end... After all, she is your flesh and blood."

"For Albion's sake, I hope you are right."

[...][...][...]

"Dammit, Reaver! I swear by all that is Holy and Corrupt, if you live through this night, _**I**_ will personally have your head on a platter!" snarled Sparrow as she fired several rounds into a snarling Cursed Bandit before quickly doubling back to slash at another that was behind her. Hammer was slamming her weapon into another, crashing it into a crumbling pillar with a sickening crack. Garth was providing cover fire by unleashing his Will Blades into anything that got too close to the others while also zapping at anything that got too close to him with his Lightning. Reaver was also firing at whatever wanted to become 'friendly' with his guts. However it was more to protect his own hide rather than the others.

"Why is it that when anything goes wrong, you think it's my fault?"

"All you had to do was cover our rear! How is it that you can possible screw that up?"

"As I said, I do not do well with authority!"

"Will you two shut up and concentrate on killing the things that are trying to kill us!" The two glared at Hammer before they fired their pistols into a single Cursed. Sparrow gave Reaver her best 'I'll-deal-with-you-later' look before quickly following after the other two, firing and slashing at anything that got in her path. Reaver grunted, and followed suit, knowing [with much distaste] that it would be hell trying to get back to Bloodstone on his own. A blood curdling roar emitting from the darkness as Sylver viciously tore into bodies, his once white fur now red with blood. Garth channeled a powerful bolt of electricity into Hammer's weapon, which she then slammed into the ground, creating a powerful spark and shock wave that sent the bandits flying. Sparrow did something similar by pumping a powerful wave of energy into her blunderbuss. When she fired a round into a body, it erupted with a potent blast of fire that quickly engulfed anything around it. Reaver did what he did best and fired shots into the darkness and up at tall cliffs. Ever round met its mark with deadly accuracy.

The Five of them steadily made their way deeper into the shadows of the marsh. Though the really had no idea where the heart of this little infestation was, they decided to trek the path where the majority seemed to be coming from. However, for every one they fell, five more would take its place. Garth and Hammer were running low on energy while Sparrow and Reaver began to grow short of ammo. The only one that seemed to be keeping up was Sylver, whose inner, beastly bloodlust was consuming him. It terrified Sparrow to no end, seeing the blood run through those cold, heartless eyes, but he was their best weapon against them. After all, what better to take down monsters than a monster itself?

The four below continued to smash and blast their way through the marsh while the fifth decapitated anything that tried to stray into the shadows. After what seemed like an eternity of blood and gore, the group of Heroes finally managed to reach what they believed to be the nest. A system of forgotten caverns, stretched wide across the dark marsh, tunneling deep within the cold earth. Reaver mentioned something about an ancient race of bandits and pirates who used the tunnels in the same fashion that he would use his own hidden under the manor.

Hammer, upon gazing into the deep darkness paled. "I don't..." Her usual strong voice quivered slightly, drawing the attention of others. "I don't do well... in confined spaces." Sparrow could practically feel the former pacifist's inner shame. But who could blame her? Twenty-some-odd years ago, she had descended into darkness and returned only to find the one person she would kill to protect bleeding his life onto the once pure Temple marble. Since that day, the two had become sisters fighting a single battle to free the spirits of those they called 'beloved' and Sparrow had long known of Hammer's newly acquired fears.

It was Garth, however, who made a gesture of assurance by raised his arm and gripping her shoulder in a way that told her 'not to worry.' Hammer looked down at Garth and nodded numbly before heaving her maul over her shoulder and entering the cold, damp cavern. Due to the tightness of the tunnel, they had to proceed down in a line. Hammer led in front, her weapon posed to smash at anything in her way. Garth followed behind her, hold a spell bound dagger that emitted a dim light for them to see. Then followed Sparrow, who kept her eyes and ears open to anything and everything. Reaver was close behind her, his gun shifting to every moving shadow. Sylver [still in his beastly form] took up the rear, descended down backwards so that nothing could escape his sight.

However, one did manage to escape their attention. High above, in a shadowed overlook, a black Balverine looked down at them with dark eyes before fading into the darkness of the caverns. It weaved and sprinted, throwing itself off of high ledged and bounding off the walls, passing through a cavern filled with innumerable bones, and another where the vast horde of bandits and cursed slept. It finally came into a large room that was devoid of everything but a dark throne and a pedestal where its master stood. As it ran up to him, it hunched close the ground and whispered a series of hisses and growls.

Nox smiled a fangy grin. "They're earlier than expected..." He then suddenly turned to the pitiful creature that slumped to the ground. "Separate them. I do not care what happens to the others, but the girl must be led to this chamber. Go!" He suddenly swung his foot, catching the creature in its ribs. Yelping in agony, the beast gave a faint, almost silent snarl before it slunk into the shadows to carry out its master's wishes.

**[...][...][...]**

Sparrow shivered silently as she and her rather unorthodox team made its way deeper into the ground. Not only was it growing colder the further they went down, but there was also a growing stench that made her just want to slice off her nose. It was a sweet, sickly scent that came with the mixture of old and fresh blood, rotten flesh, decay, and other smells best left un-described. She was not the only one to 'enjoy' its effect either.

"By Avo's Grace." coughed Hammer as she pinched her nose tightly with her free hand. "What _is_ that?"

Sparrow shook her head in distain. "Whatever it is, it makes the sewage of Bloodstone smell like a field spring cut roses." Sylver grunted in response as his nose scrunched up rather tightly. Sparrow pitied the beast as his sense of smell was far more acute then theirs. Garth and Reaver were the only two seemingly unfazed by the malicious odor. Reaver due to the fact that he had lived in the foulest city for well over five hundred years and Garth... had a scarf pulled tightly across his face.

"I don't see what the big deal is." quirked Reaver with his usual "I'm-better-than-you" tone. "You two are making such a fuss over a smell. If you ask me, it is beyond pathetic."

Hammer stopped midstride and turned to face the arrogant pirate. Garth and Sparrow quickly pressed themselves against the cold wall so not to get in her path. "Well maybe if you didn't have your head up your ass at every waking moment, you would be able to use that nose of yours for something other than sniffing out a good lay!" All sense of security vanished from her body as her voice bounced off the walls, making her booming voice all the more painful.

'_So much for the element of surprise...'_ Sparrow thought with a grim look and a tick in her eye. When her voice finally faded away, Reaver reached up and rubbed his ear roughly as though to try and regain his hearing, all the while glaring at the towering former monk with one eye closed tightly.

"Well _excuse_ me for being far more superior than you." Reaver should have stopped while he was ahead, as evident from the growing battle lust slowly filling Hammer's now cold eyes. However, he continued on with a cocky grin and his hands on his hips. "And at least I can get laid. No man -or woman for that matter- would even think of touching a loud, drunk, and [quite frankly] ignorant barbarian such as yourself." A chilling silence followed his words as they sank into Hammer's mind.

Garth inched a little closer to Sparrow to whisper, "This... is not going to end well, is it?"

Sparrow shook her head slowly, her eye concentrating on the sight before her. Steam was practically emitting from Hammer and her eyes actually began to bleed red. No... this was not going to end well at all. "That's it! Hero or no Hero I am going to snap you like the twig you are-"

Just as Hammer took a threatening step towards Reaver, her maul raised to cave in his skull, a deafening roar emitting from high above. Sylver quickly looked up and then [just as quickly] charged forward and slammed into Sparrow enough to throw her body out of the way. Not but seconds after, a large pile of rocks smashed right where she once stood. Groaning from the sudden and rather painful force, Sparrow slowly got back up to her feet, her ribs throbbing in pain. Sylver looked back up and snarled up at the blood drenched Balverine/bandit before jumping up and slamming it into the rock face.

Sparrow, ignoring the pain in her side, quickly pulled out one of her pistols and attempted to fire it at the cursed beast. However, with Sylver struggling with it, she could not get a clear enough shot without the risk of hurting her companion. Reaver, on the other hand, did not seem to share her morals and was about to fire at both of them before another cursed suddenly crashed into him and sent him plummeting down another tunnel with a shout.

"Ambush! AMBUSH!" shouted Hammer as a third lunged from the shadows straight towards her. She attempted to smash in its skull, but it quickly doubled back and began to attack her relentlessly, forcing her down another, separate path, away from the others.

"They're trying to separate us! Stay togeth-" Garth's words were cut short as a clawed hand suddenly snatched him by his vest and pulled him into the darkness. Sparrow bit back a violent string of curses and attempted to go after the Will User. To be honest [as evident from their time in the Spire], Garth really didn't know how to handle much without his powers. She was stopped short as yet another beast fell from above to block her path. It was bigger than any other she had come across yet. It had several oozing wounds and patches of fur missing from its body. As it snarled fiercely down at her, diseased saliva dripping down its jaws, putting Sparrow on edge.

"I have no time for this!" she snarled to herself as she skillfully pulled her blunderbuss from her back and fired at the creature. Being at a rather close range, she was able to make her mark. The beast howled in pain as a large pool of blood began to form at its feet, however it still retained enough strength to stay up. With deadly speed, it slammed her and pinned her against the wall. Swinging her legs about, she kicked at its side and anywhere else her feet could reach. This did very little as it pressed her into the rocky, wet wall harder and bent down as if to bite her. She could feel its cold, sticky saliva drip down to her skin. Panic setting in, Sparrow strained to reach one of her hidden daggers.

"**Your flesh..."** The voice was low and more like a garbled hiss. This caused her to freeze for a moment, if on out of confusion. Sylver was the only one with Balverine blood that she had ever heard speak in its beast form. To hear another [even though it was less than intelligent and hardly audible] was one of the few things she could chalk up on her 'what-the-fuck' list. **"Sweet flesh... Give me... your flesh..."** Though its speech left much to be desired, its meaning was the same in any language.

Finding a newfound resolve to break free, Sparrow put more energy into her struggling as it lowered itself to take a chuck of her skin. Just as she could feel its teeth grazing her body, she managed to free one of her daggers. A piercing wail overwhelmed her as she was able to plunge the cold metal into one of its eyes. Reeling in pain, the cursed man flung Sparrow away from it as it clawed at its face. Wasting no time, Sparrow quickly retrieved her discarded blunderbuss and fired several rounds into the creature. She managed to take off one of its arms and blow a larger hole into its stomach before it finally fell to the ground, still and lifeless.

Her chest heaving with adrenaline, Sparrow pulled the overly large gun close to her chest and gently slid down the side of the rock face to catch her breath. When her mind finally cleared, she quickly wiped away the saliva dripping down her neck as well as any of the beast's blood that make contact with her skin. Had any of it gotten in even the shallowest of cuts... A deep shudder ran down her spine at the thought.

Quickly getting up to her feet, she swung her gun over her shoulder, took one last look at the bloody mess, and then took off into the cavern to find her now missing allies and [if she was lucky] the root of this infestation.

[...][...][...]

She was not sure just how long she had been wandering around looking for any sign of life other than something trying to kill her, but Sparrow was officially fed up with this place and its entirety. It was cold, it smelled of something more foul, and [no matter where she stepped] she would always end up boot high in some corpse, entrails, or some other bodily part that she really did not want to see.

In fact, it was about the time she stepped into what was her eleventh pool of blood did she finally snap. "Avo curse this place and all within it! I did NOT sign up for this!" Her shouts bounced off the walls. "I just bought these boots too..." she added with a grumble while trying to shake the blood from her already stained boots, before cupping one of her hands to her mouth.

"Sylver!" Her voice ricocheted off the cold walls, echoing almost painfully before it faded into oblivion. "Garth! Hammer! Where are you?" Her purposely left out Reaver's name in her calling. In truth, though he was a Hero like her and an asset, she really didn't give a rat's ass about him. He was arrogant, obnoxious, and -worst of all- betrayed her not once, but _twice_. Knowing him and his nature, he was probably making a deal with the Balverines and Bandits so that they could skewer her alive.

When no reply bounced back at her, she mumbled what was probably her thirtieth string of curses before pressing on through the caverns. This assault had gone less than desired and Sparrow had the sinking feeling that it was only going to get worst.

After wandering and blasting her ways through the caverns, she finally was able to find herself in what seemed like the heart of it all as evident from the sudden change in the surface. Unlike the rest of the caves, the walls and floor was some form of marble, cold to the touch and almost pitch black in color. If it weren't for the occasional flickering of a torch every few feet or so, she would have thought that she had stumbled into a void, swallowed by the shadows. This, coupled by the chilling silence, had the Hero of Albion turning in circles, her pistol in hand and pointing at every moving shadow and her other hand rested firmly on the hilt of her silver tempered Daichi.

Just as she allowed her body to faintly let loose its tenseness, the torch behind her suddenly died with a faint gust of wind. Instinctively, she twirled around and fired a shot blind into the darkness. She felt her heart leap into her throat as she heard the round pierce something hard instead of soft. Her blue eyes danced with hidden fear as she attempted to find the other being sharing this room with her. Another torch blew out and another round was fired. A low, mocking laughter called from behind as something brush past her. Spinning around, she fired several rounds until she heard the clicking of an empty barrel.

She reached down to reload it, only to find that she had used up everything she had brought. Cursing her luck, she tossed the gun to the side and pulled her katana out with one hand and the dagger hidden in her boot with the other. The last two torches blew out, engulfing her in darkness. This was bad. Even though she had spent the last ten years training both body and mind, she had not developed her eyes to the point she could see in the dark. Unlike the creature that shared the same room with her.

Moving around blindly in the dark, Sparrow attempted to find one of the torches so that she could light it with her own fire. Just as her leg finally brushed against one, and she began to channel her Will into it, something hard and heavy collided with her side, sending her crashing to the ground with a surprised, pained cry. Another bought of laugher emanated from the darkness as she clutched her side in pain.

"It's about time you got here." called out an all too familiar voice. Groaning softly and spitting out what she presumed was blood in her mouth, Sparrow rolled her body to the side just enough to try and catch sight of her assailant. Though it was dark, she could vaguely make out a silhouette moving about. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever find this place. For the Hero of Albion, you sure are slow." The taunting voice grew closer as the thundering sounds of heavy steps on the cold marble ground made her ears throb. She felt something hard press against her side, forcing her to roll over on her back before she felt the mass press down tightly on her chest, slightly limiting her breathing.

"But, as the Guest of Honor, I suppose we can forgive you this time." She heard the sound of clicking fingers and then suddenly the dead torches sprang to life. It stung her eyes something fierce as sudden bright lights danced around and it took a moment for them to adjust so that she could get a good look at the man above her. The first thing she noticed was that his booted foot was the mass on her chest holding her down. The second thing was his face. Scarred was an understatement as it looked like his flesh had a very intimate moment with a cheese grater. Some of it was obvious claw marks while some looked as if someone has taken a knife to his face. But that was not all. Dotting the sides of his face, down his neck, and along his arms there were dark, piercing tattoos that looked almost carved into his skin.

Without even really thinking, she mumbled "Good lord, what happened to you?"

She could feel Nox stiffen slightly as he looked down at her in mild disbelief. "What the hell do you think happened to me?" he shouted as he lifted his foot off of her and quickly slammed it against her side that was already abused enough. She could feel her ribs cave in slightly as she doubled over in pain. Walking over to her, Nox reached down and grabbed a fist full of her hair, forcing her to look up at him. A dark grin played across his scared face as he saw a bit of blood slide down from the side of her mouth. "You know, I should thank you for what you did... or rather, did not do." Sparrow's eyes narrowed.

"It would have made no difference if I was there or not." she hissed, her voice somewhat raspy from the pain in her side. "You would have all died, all the same."

"Oh no, you did make a difference." He roughly released her head and took a step back. "If you hadn't have been there, then _they_ would not have come."

"What are you talking about?" she asked with a slight wheeze as she tried to lift her body up from the ground. She was on her knees when the bandit lord began to circle her, his echoing voice taunting her as he did.

"Haven't you ever wondered? Why a man bitten by a Balverine still has his sanity?" He chuckled insanely as he watched her try to get back up to her feet only to fall back to her knees. A Hero she may be, but she was still only human and the pain working her body was slowly overwhelming her. "When a human is bitten by a Balverine, their blood becomes cursed, forcing a change. They become mindless, blood craving beasts with no memory of their humanity." Sparrow wanted nothing more than to cut out his tongue. Nothing was more annoying than getting a lesson from a murdering lunatic. "And yet, here I am. Full of cursed blood and still retaining my humanity." He held out his arms as if he was something of great importance. "Are you curious to know why?"

"Dying..." she spat with venom and sarcasm.

Nox smirked at her venomous voice and pushed down on her back with his boot so that she fell to the floor once more before continuing his little circle around her. "Of course you are. Birds are always so curious." He heard her growl darkly while trying to get back up. "They follow your wake, you know. Moving within the cover of darkness. Watching you. Studying you. Haven't you ever felt their eyes? They followed your shadow to that place ten years ago, to the cave where the beast took me and lured you. They found me, bloody and barely alive. They took me in, brought me back from death's clutch. They even pushed back the cursed just enough for me to keep my sanity. And all I had to do... was bring you out."

He stopped once more and bent down. Reaching down, he clutched her face and brought it up so that she was forced to look into his dark red eyes and his sinister smile. "I bet... you wish you had killed me the moment you saw me."

"Actually..." she whispered while slowly reaching for the dagger strapped to her inner thigh. "I'm quite impressed!" With her shout, she drove the blade into his gut. As he let go and howled in pain, she rolled herself backwards and jumped back to her feet. It was the oldest trick she had learned: play your enemy as a weak and sniveling woman, then hit them hard when they get close enough. She cringed slightly from the sudden and rather violent movement, but quickly regained her foot and took off towards her fallen pistol.

She heard the clank of metal as Nox pulled the dagger out of his stomach. Just as she was about to grab her gun, something hard and heavy slammed into her, pinning her to the ground. She heard something growl death into her ear and something wet drip down to her neck. She cursed loudly and struggled against his grip, pushing her arm to reach the gun that was just out of reach. Nox's head shot up and saw what she was trying to do. Grinning, he got up from her, making sure to push her down with his boot, and then snatched the arm from her. He dangled it in front of her for a moment before tossing it into the darkness, knowing that she would have a hell of a time finding it.

Snarling, Sparrow pushed herself up and stood her ground before the cursed man. "You know, you are really beginning to piss me off!" Her ribs were about to crack, so using her sword would be useless until it was a last resort and he just cut her chances with Skill until she could find an opening to blast him with her bigger gun. Which left only one other thing.

Feeling her Will surge, she reached out throw a bolt of lightning at him, only to have her fingertips spark for a moment and then nothing. As she looked at her hand in disbelief, Nox roared with laughter. "Surprised? Didn't it ever occur to you the reason why I had you led to this specific room?" He tapped his foot against the marble. "This room was built with a very rare stone with a powerful magnetic pull that nullifies those molecules in your body that allow you to use your little magic tricks. Very useful if you ask me."

'_Fuck! This night just keeps getting better and better!'_ Cursing to whatever god 'blessed' her with such luck, she quickly pulled her bigger gun from her back, ignored the searing pain as her body resisted the movement, and fired.

[...][...][...]

Reaver growled in annoyance as yet another body fell before him, a spray of blood erupting from the single gunshot wound in the head and landing on his elegant, stylish pants. Sitting down on a smooth rock, Reaver holstered his beloved .48. Pulling out a cloth from his shirt, he began to try and dab what little blood would come off [not whip as it would just smear into the fabric] while assessing his current situation. He was alone, that much was given. He was pissed, also given. Ammo was running low, he was boot deep in mud and other liquid-solids he cared not to know, his head was pounding, he was lost, and -worst of all- his favorite pair of pants were now soiled with tainted blood!

Cursing at the pile of bodies before him, he kicked at them in frustration. He needed to find the others and fast. While he prided himself in his ability to fight on his own, he really needed the others if only to use them as shields for him to beat a hasty retreat should things get ugly. Tossing his now bloody rag on the pile of dead men, Reaver got back up and began to make his way through the cavern system to find something that wouldn't try to kill him the moment they saw him.

As he reached a Y-section in the cave, he heard a distinct roar bounce off the wall. Though it was faint, he was sure of it. It was gunfire, but not just any. It was the sound of a very large, very powerful gun. More specifically, Sparrow's limb blasting blunderbuss. A ghost of a smile played his lips. Taking the path the sound came from, his mind began to reread his situation.

Perhaps this wouldn't be such a bad thing. With everyone separated, that gave him was quality 'alone-time' with his favorite little bird. Perhaps he would even get the chance to plant a round in her _own_ pretty skull without her annoyingly loyal lapdog getting in his way.

[...][...][...]

Pain. Blinding pain. Blinding pain and a dull ringing that would not leave her ears. That was the sum of what Sparrow felt as her arms gave out and her still smoking gun fell to the ground with a loud 'clank.' The recoil had finally pushed her ribs over the edge. She could practically hear the bones crack as a torrent of blood rushed to her mouth. One hand reached down to clutch her side while the other went to her mouth to try and keep her lifeblood inside of her. Staggering backwards, her back crashed against a column and she soon found herself on the ground, blood dripping from her mouth and the skin on her side stretching out slightly thanks to the cracked bones.

Choking on a bit of blood, Sparrow coughed out what she could before her wild eyes moved to her current company. She had not missed. Nox took a good few feet away, blood dripping from the large wound in his chest. His face scrunched in pain and a low hiss vibrated from him, but the wound itself began to slowly stitch itself together, leaving only a torn shirt and small rivers of blood as proof it was ever there. Sparrow's mind howled with a series of curses, venomous remarks, and several colorful words to Avo himself.

Reaching up, Nox trailed his fingers across a streak of blood and then licked it clean, causing Sparrow to gag slightly. "H-How?" she hissed while spitting out another glob of blood. It hurt like hell to talk, but dammit she wanted answers! "No creature can heal that fast, human or otherwise." Before she knew it, her body was picked up and tossed to the side, crashing into the rock face. She let out what sounded like a mixture of a pained cry and a blood-filled-mouth gurgle the moment she hit the ground.

"Isn't it obvious by now?" His mocking tone was replaced with one filled with ten years of built hatred and anger. "I am not a normal monster." With speed only a Balverine could posses, he stormed over to her and gripped her shirt tightly, lifting her up and slamming her roughly against the wall. She reached up and gripped his arm to try and pry it off of her. It would have been easier for her to bend iron.

"What do you want from me?" she sputtered while trying to flail out of his grip. "If you want to kill me, then just slice my throat and get it over with!" She prayed her bluff would work long enough for her to figure out a way out of this mess.

Nox tilted his head slightly and grinned in amusement. "Kill you? Now, whoever said that?" He tossed her to the ground and stepped roughly on her good side. "While slicing open your throat and bathing in your lifeblood sounds very appealing to me, I have much bigger plans for you." He moved so that his foot was resting on her head, pushing her battered face into the cold marble ground. He leaned closer down, making sure to put more pressure on her head. "You think that you know everything. Even about yourself. But I know otherwise. I know your family's dirty little secret, even if you don't." Sparrow felt him lift up, but before she could do anything, he slammed his foot hard into the side of her head. Everything became numb as something bright erupted inside her mind before everything began to fade into oblivion.

[...][...][...]

Reaver watched from above with a bitter mixture of impression and rage. While he was impressed in the raw power the cursed man had, a demonic rage slowly built up down from the pits of his soul. While it pleased him to no end to watch Sparrow fall to the ground and writhe in agony, he was furious that it had not been _him_ to invoke such a beautiful dance of pain. Sparrow was _his_ to torment, tame, and kill. Not some boy with mange.

Without a sound, he reached into his coat and pulled out his pistol, aiming it at the back of Nox's head. It would be so easy... As his finger began to press down on the trigger, something heavy washed over him and he felt his entire body grow numb. His extended arm began to quiver as a he began to fight a sudden and very powerful weight as it pressed against him.

Reaver grit his teeth hard as he fought whatever was keeping him from shooting a round into the beast that was currently lifting the unconscious Heroine up and over his shoulder. Just as his arm felt as if it would snap from the pressure, Reaver dropped his arm, causing the metal of the gun to bounce off the stone he laid against, causing a painfully loud sound to echo. Wishing whatever god was looking down upon him a suffering torment like no other, Reaver looked down to see Nox staring up at him with a dark grin before turned around and leaving the room with Sparrow.

Cursing long and loud, Reaver got up to his feet and began to try and find a way down. He now had the daunting task of rescuing the one whom he wanted dead above all others.

'_Great...'_

[...][...][...]

A low, pained groan escaped Sparrow's chest as her mind slowly, and rather painfully, moved from blissful unconscious to the harshness that was reality. The first thing she became aware of was the buzzing. It started low, as if a bee was flying right beside her ear. She tried to smack away whatever was making the noise, but found that her arm would not move an inch from where it was. She tried her other, only to find it in the same condition as the first. The buzzing grew louder and deeper, forming inaudible groans. The haze in her mind began to clear and she began to realize that whatever held her arms down, or rather up, was cold. Very cold.

She attempted to shift her body, only to find that it would not move an inch. Whatever the cold objects were on her wrists, they were also on her ankles, holding her down on something hard, cold, and... sticky?

"So... You're finally awake." called a mocking voice right beside her. The shrill of something sharp gazing something hard pierced her ears, causing her to turn her head away. Though it did not do much good since she could barely move. "I was beginning to think I threw you around too much. Can't have you missing your own party, now can we?" The shrill sounded once more, and when she opened her eyes to glare at the source, she found it to be Nox slowly dragging the tip of a dagger across a stone slab. Due to the distance of the blade to her face, she deduced that she was tied to said slab.

Sparrow eyed the blade from the corner of her eye before looking back at its owner. He smirked and purposely dragged the dagger slowly beside the side of her face, producing an ear splitting shriek that made her cringe. He then lifted the dagger back up and began to play his thumb across its edge, as if testing its sharpness. Her glare darkening, she forced her neck to move just enough to see what kept her from jumping up and sinking something sharp deep into Nox's face. Dark shackles bound her wrists far above her head, a thick yet small chain protruding from it and latching onto the stone slab that held her. She suspected that the same thing kept her legs still.

Straining her arms, Sparrow attempted to break away, but quickly found that it did her no good. Nox look amused. Rising to his feet, he began to circle the slab. She did her best to follow his every move with her eyes.

"Don't bother. The steel is strong enough to survive even your blood's legendary strength." He reached down and taped one of the shackles with a clawed finger. "And don't even try to summon your magic. The restraints are made of the same marble from the Black Cavern. The only thing you can do is lay down." He chuckled softly at the last part. His words sinking in, Sparrow grunted and relaxed her body less she strained it any more than it already was.

"So... care to tell me why you went through all the trouble to bring me here?" She tried to keep the seething rage out of her tone, knowing full well that she was in no real position to tempt her captive. Cocky, she may have been, but she was no idiot.

"I'm glad you asked." His voice perked up slightly as he moved back to where he was sitting and leaned down on his knees so that he was eye level to her. He smiled at her with a sort of sick, dark innocence. "The reason why I brought you here tonight, was to finally get revenge. Revenge for what you did to me, as well as what your ancestors did to a _friend_ of mine." Sparrow opened her mouth to speak, but he quickly reached down and placed a finger on her lips. "Now, now. No need for words. The only thing I want out of you is a scream."

With that, Nox twisted his free hand, sliding his dagger across her arm. Sparrow bit back a cry, but was unable to suppress a small squeak as cold steel ripped through her flesh. Biting down on her lip, she glanced at her arm. He had cut her just above her wrist, the wound deep enough to draw a large amount of blood. The sight made her face pale ever so lightly.

Humming a dark tune, Nox collected a bowl carved from bone and fashioned with dark runes. He positioned it just under the edge of the slab so that it caught the Hero's blood as it ran from her arm and rivered down the stone. Hissing back the pain that crawled through her skin, she glowered at the man-beast beside her. Seemingly ignoring her, Nox continued to collect her blood until the bowl was nearly full. "It's ironic isn't it?" His voice seemed to waver in and out as Sparrow's head slowly became hazy. "That it will be your blood to set him free." He lifted up the bowl and examined the markings carved into it, which began to glow with a malicious light.

"Who...?" Sparrow forced herself to ask. Her own voice wavered as her mind swirled, her face growing paler from her blood loss. Nox looked down at her and smiled a fangy grin.

"Oh, to answer that I will have to tell you a story." He sat the blood-filled bowl down on the slab and then dug into a pocket, pulling out a long, thick piece of cloth. "Once upon a time," he began while tying off her wrist, ceasing the blood flow to keep her conscious. "The world was shrouded in darkness. An ethereal Void that consuming everything in its wake. It was as beautiful as it was unforgiving. But the people..." His tone changed to a slightly more angry one. "The people did not accept the darkness. Instead, they shunned its dark embrace, defying the Three Gods that ruled over them. They were punished severely for their defiance. First they were consumed by fire, then they were swept away by an endless tide before finally falling unto madness, slaying one another and falling prey to their own dark desires. The people then submitted to the Gods. All... but one.

"A youthful blacksmith refused to bow before the Gods and instead chose to fight them. One night, while seeking a way to end the Gods' reign, he was summoned to the realm that birthed the Gods' by the one with the darkest soul. He temped the boy with power and a mystic sword, and all he had to do was submit to His rule." A faint call of longing chimed in his voice. As he continued, something began to weigh down at Sparrow's soul. An unknown fear slowly crept through her mind and she could not repress the shiver that crawled down her spine. "But the boy refused the God's offer. Instead he stole away the sword and freed his mind from the Void. With the sword in his possession, the boy began to develop a gift to bend reality to his will. And with this power, he challenged the Gods atop the highest mountain in Albion.

"The first to fight the boy was the Proud Knight, who was vanquished after underestimating the power of the sword the youth held. The second was the Cunning Jack, whose twisted mind made the boy face his own darkness. He to fell by the power of the sword. Last was the Dark Queen, whose own power and might outweighed the Knight and the Jack combined." With those words, Nox made a pained sound and his head twisted slight as if something has struck him. A dark emotion flashed in his eyes before he got up and began to circle the slab.

"For seven days the boy fought the Queen. Mountains collapsed and seas were raised. But in the end, it was the boy who remained standing. With the death of the Gods, the people rejoiced and made the boy their kind. Their Archon." With the title said, something warm began to pulse inside Sparrow, combating the heavy darkness that wrapped around her. "But..." Nox moved back to his rock and another dark smile played across his scared face. "Evil never truly dies, now does it?" Reaching down, Nox began to play with Sparrow's hair, causing her to move his head away from his touch. Frowning, he grabbed her chin and forced her head up so that she looked at him.

"The darkness grew and flowered once more as one of the Gods returned to reclaim his power and his thrown. But, because of your ancestor, He was cast right back into the Void. Imprisoned in his own mask. And now we come to the present day." He left go of her head, causing it to bounce off the stone. Wincing in pain, Sparrow bared her teeth at the man, but held her tongue. She could hear the dull echoes of gun fire and roaring. With every minute Nox wasted, her companions were getting closer and closer. All she had to do was keep silent and stall.

"You see, the Cunning Jack had a very special group of followers who bowed to his essence, doing all that he willed. Sacrificing, corrupting, even dying for their God. The Cult of Blades." He motioned around him and at that time, Sparrow realized the audience that surrounded them. Men and women wearing dark robes with streaks of red circled the room, chanting in a dark and forbidden language. Each once bore the same tattoos and markings that dotting Nox's being. "For centuries they followed your bloodline, awaiting for the time that their master would once again rise up and lead them to the Oblivion they sought. That was how they found me, barely alive and filled with immense hatred in my soul. They saw an opportunity, and they took it. And now... It's time for you to play your part."

Moving away, Nox stepped up to a hidden platform and lit two torches. As the platform lit up, something inside Sparrow cried out in fear. Atop a pedestal rested an ornament white mask painted with red and gold. Its hollow eye sockets radiated with malicious intent and, without her realizing it, a name escaped her chest.

"Jack of Blades..."

[...][...][...]

Growling her infamous battle cry, Hammer slammed her maul into the face of a portly bandit who tried to slice at her heart. As his body slumped to the ground with a sickening sound, Garth combined Lightning and Fire to create a powerful blast that send a group of cursed men to their deaths. When the last one dropped and everything grew still, Hammer slammed her now very heavy weapon into the ground and leaned against it.

"Dammit! Just how many more are there?" Since being separated from the others, the Hero of Strength had found herself combating all manner of creatures in an attempt to find her comrades. She managed to quickly find Garth, who was, at the time, being overpowered. With their reunion, the two quickly began a search for the others. Hammer had no real concern for Sylver or Reaver. But something in the pit of her stomach told her that Sparrow was endanger.

"Hammer." Garth's authoritative voice caused her to look over. "Have you noticed something... odd in the way the enemy is attacking?"

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. On the outside, there were hardly any sentries or attackers, but the moment we step foot into the caverns, we are ambushed by every breathing thing in the marsh. But it's how they are attacking us that gives me cause for concern." Standing back up, Hammer lifted her maul over her shoulder, trying to grasp what Garth was getting at. "They're pushing us out. The further we try and go in, the harder they swarm, forcing us to backtrack. They're trying to keep us out."

"Your right." Hammer looked down at the pile of bodies beside them. "It's as if... they don't want us to get somewhere."

"Or rather, interrupt something." The sudden voice caused Hammer to swing her weapon into the shadows with a growl. Reaver quickly threw himself out of the way just as a chuck of rock wall became dust. "Shit! It's a wonder why you are even called a Hero! You smash friend and foe alike!"

Giving a curt snort, Hammer slide her weapon back over her shoulder before turning her back on the pirate. Garth rolled his eyes at the childish display but then turned to Reaver. "What did you mean by 'interrupting something'?"

Leaning against the wall, Reaver cast off his usual charming grin. "Oh, nothing really." he chimed in a sing-song voice. "Except for Sparrow being carted off by the head cursed to become a human sacrifice." Garth's eyes widened at this statement and Hammer swirled around, red bleeding into her eyes once more. Storming over to the smaller man, she wrapped a hand around his neck and lifted him up a couple of inches from the ground.

"And you LET him?" Her roar was enough to make a demon green with envy and shifting figures to retreat back into the shadows. Reaver struggled against her iron grip, fighting to take in the breath that she denied him. "Where?" she demanded. His mind beginning to fade from lack of oxygen, Reaver managed to point in the direction he came from. Despite his answer, Hammer refused to lessen her hold until Garth reached up and took hold of her arm. Looking down at the will user, something in his dark eyes soothed her rage, causing her to drop the pirate. As he writhed on the ground, gasping for air, Hammer began to storm in the tunnel that he had pointed out, smashing anything and everything that got in her way. Garth followed quickly behind before Reaver staggered up and trudged after them with a dark curse.

'_Hang in there, Sparrow.' _She called out in her mind. _'Help is coming.'_

She had lost her father before.

She was not going to lose her sister.

[...][...][...]

"So let me get this straight. You dragged me here into the middle of a smelly swamp so that you could awaken a pissed off demon?" Maybe it was the blood loss. Maybe it was everything that had happened finally caught up to her. Maybe it was a bluff to buy her friends some time to find her. Or maybe it was because she generally just did not care anymore. Whichever reason it was, Sparrow continued to look at Nox with annoyance and ire as he stood by the mask that the robed cult members bowed to.

"Your sarcasm, though rather disrespectful, is rather amusing given your current situation." Nox moved back over to the slab and picked up the bowl of blood that he had collected from her earlier before moving back to the pedestal. The chanting seemed to grow louder and darker. "To answer your previous question, the reason I did not kill you before is because you have been granted the honor to become the new host for our master."

Another, louder cry ripped through Sparrow's soul as his words sunk into her mind.

'_No'_ a voice shouted in her mind. _'You mustn't let that happen!'_

Heeding the voice, she began to struggle against her bonds once more, earning her a curt snort from Nox as he turned back to her. "Struggle if you must, but that will not change your fate. Tonight, the Master will finally be returned to Albion and enemies will become one. A single entity." He then lifted the bowl up and began to slowly pour it on the mask. As it flowed down its porcelain surface, it seemed to soak it in, like a tree drinking in water, leaving no trace that the blood was even there.

The cursed bandit then lifted the mask and began to slowly walk towards Sparrow, his voice chanting with the cult surrounding them. "With the blood of Ancient Heroes, may your power become prevailing. With the soul of Archon, may your life be eternal. Two beings become one." As he reached her side, he moved the mask inches above her face. She could feel dark tendrils slowly reach out to her, caressing her face, wrapping around her in a suffocating manner. She could almost hear the triumphant laughter from the demon within that cursed object. "Ironic isn't it? That your family's most feared enemy would chose you for his next host. Farwell, _Hero_."

As he lowered the mask towards her face, Sparrow shut her eyes tightly, praying to the Gods, and for a brief moment, time seemed to still. Her cries did not fall upon deaf ears that night as her salvation came in the form of a bullet. Roaring in pain, Nox released his hold on the mask, which clattered onto the slab right by Sparrow's head. She felt the dark tendrils release their grip, but not without leaving damage. Long, thin claw marks dragged across her face, assuring her that she would have yet another scar to add to her collection.

Hiss, Nox looked down at the bleeding hole in his hand and then towards the offender. Sanding only a few yards away, poised atop a high rock as if he were God himself, was Reaver. For once in her life, Sparrow was grateful to see his cocky, proud face.

"Reaver!" she cried out in relief. The pirate turned his eyes towards her, giving her the distinct look to keep quiet. A look that made her smile drop slightly at the memory of just who the man was. He then glowered back to Nox. As he jumped from his perch, Sparrow saw that his eyes were blood shot and crazed.

"You should know better than to take someone else's prey!" He fired another round at the bandit, but this time he dodged it, causing the bullet to bounce off of the slab, right next to Sparrow's side.

"Hey! Watch what you are aiming at, you bone headed moron!"

"You be quite! You are in no position to tell me what to do!"

Snarling darkly, Nox made a motion with his hand and before the Hero of Skill could react, the swarm of cultists began to attack. Some fired guns or bows while others charged towards him with hammers, axes, and swords. "Nothing will come in the way of the Master's revival!" With that, Nox retrieved the discarded mask and moved once more to place it on Sparrow's face. However, a large wave of lighting and one powerful blow to the side foiled him once again, causing him to fly through a rock face.

"Nobody messes with _our_ Sparrow!" shouted Hammer. "Garth! Help Reaver while I get Sparrow free!" With a curt nod, The will user ran to assist his fellow Hero with the attacking cultists while Hammer raced to Sparrow's side.

"Am I glad to see you!"

Reaching down, Hammer grabbed a hold of the chains and began to pull, trying to break them apart with her Strength. However, despite her attempts, the chains refused to cave to her brute strength. Cursing loudly, Hammer commanded her to remain still before raising her maul and striking down on the chains. The slab under Sparrow cracking from the heavy force, but only sparks flew from the chains. Biting her lip, Hammer tried once more, with little results.

"Dammit! This isn't working!"

"The base! Try breaking the base of the chains!"

Taking her advice, Hammer quickly slammed into the weaker retraining piece that held the chain to the slab. As it shattered, allowing Sparrow to move her right arm freely, she gave a small cheer before instructing Hammer to do the same for the other three restrains. After the last one was crushed, Sparrow quickly got to her feet, being mindful of her cracked ribs. However, it wasn't until she balanced herself did she realized just how heavy the chains that had bound her were. At least fifteen pounds of pure, hard metal hung from her, causing her to arch forward slightly.

"Dammit! This shit is heavier than it looks!" Hearing a loud snarl, she turned to see one of the monks lunging at her, claws ready to tear into her flesh. With a grunt, Sparrow put all her stamina into her arm and swung, causing the heavy chain to slam into the cultist's face, sending him flying into the stone wall with sickening crack. The attack took its toll on Sparrow as well. Feeling her arm strain from the swing, she feared that another attempt would dislocate her shoulder. Seeing her friend reel in pain, Hammer shoved Sparrow in between herself and Garth.

"Garth, see if you can melt those chains off." Nodding, Garth turned from the attacking cultists, allowing Reaver to show off. Baying her to keep still, he reached out his hands and a stream of fire engulfed the chains inches from Sparrow's wrists. Hissing from the sudden heat, she did her best to keep still less she found her hands charred and useless. As the metal began to grow red, a piercing roar deafened the cries of battle, causing Garth to lose concentration and nearly catch Sparrow's garb on fire. Twisting her head as far as she could without moving her arms, Sparrow watched Nox pull himself from the rubble, his body turning into the beast that he truly was. His skin seemed to rip apart, as if something were trying to claw its way out from the inside. Nails were replaced with deadly claws. His face elongated to that of a snout filled with poisonous fangs. His clothes became torn, black fur quickly replacing them. Unlike other Balverines though, the fur did not cover all of his body. Patches were missing from various parts of his form, showing off diseased and scared flesh. To Sparrow, he looked more like a rabid dog with sever mange rather than a were-beast.

With his transformation, he let loose a fierce, dark roar before stalking towards the group.

"**I have waited ten years for this night."** His gargled voice will filled with an insatiable blood lust. **"I will not let you destroy everything I have worked to create!"**

He lunged towards the tightly grouped Heroes, but another roar sounded and a flash of white collided with black.

"Sylver!" Sparrow tried to turn around to see her beloved friend, but was stop short when Garth barked at her to keep still so that he could finish heating the chains without burning her. Seeing the white Balverine in his current state was probably not a very wise idea at the moment in any case. His fur was matted with a thick layer of blood and mud. There were several wound dotting his body from both steel and bullet. The most notable being a large gash in his side. As the two beasts collided, Sylver attempted to sink his fangs into Nox's neck, however the bandit was able to grab his head and toss him to the side. Despite his injuries, Sylver was able to land on his feet and charge once more.

As the two Balverines tore at each other, Hammer and Reaver did all they could to keep the cultists at bay. It wasn't hard. Most of them seemed like they had never even lifted a weapon. However, they vastly outnumbered them, slowly draining their strength. "How are those chains coming, Garth?" shouted Hammer over her shoulder as she crashed her maul into another skull.

"Almost there..."

"Please hurry." Sparrow bit down on her lip. The heat from the chain was starting to really hurt.

"Just a few more-"

"Incoming!" Hearing Reaver's cry, the group broke free of each other just as the two fighting Balverines slammed into the ground by them. Claws flew wildly as the two fought for both dominance and blood. Looking down at her chains, which were slowly starting to cool, Sparrow pieced together an idea.

"Hammer! Grab the end of the chain and pull!" Looking down at Sparrow with mild confusion, Hammer grabbed the two ends and began to pull. As she did, Sparrow began to pull in the opposite direction, keeping her arms taunt. Ignoring the severe pain this was causing her, Sparrow growled for Hammer to pull harder. Just as it felt like her arms would rip, the hot chains began to split apart. With one last determined and powerful tug, the most of the chain split apart and dropped to the ground. Heaving a deep sigh, Sparrow reached over and pulled Reaver's cutlass from his waist. She could not use her Will so long as the shackled remained and her guns had been discarded in the previous room, leaving her with very little choice of weaponry.

"I'll just borrow this." She ignored the death glare he gave her, Sparrow charged into the fight, stumbling slightly from the chains on her legs. She would deal with them later. Standing back to back with Hammer, the two of them slammed and slashed at those who surrounded them while Garth supported them with magic and Reaver shot down the ones who were firing from afar. All the while, the two fierce Balverines clawed and bit into one another. They were also slamming into the walls, causing the foundation to become steadily unstable.

It was when Sylver tackled Nox right into the stone slab that Sparrow had been chained to did things change for the worst.

"**Enough!"** Blood spewed from his mouth as he forced himself back onto his feet. Despite all the power he had, all that he had worked for, he was still outmatched by the pure blood. And while the mutt had just as many injuries as himself, Nox simply did not have the pure stamina a true Balverine had. The last attack had forced his beast back into his body, leaving behind a very battered, bloodied, and naked male. His dark eyes moved from Sylver to Sparrow, who stared at him with a look that clearly say "It's over."

Looking down at his feet, he saw the forgotten mask, its empty eye sockets staring at him with malicious intent. A dark whisper began to sound in his head. "Yes..." Reaching down, Nox lifted up the mask, a dark grin playing across his face. A silent fear cried out within Sparrow as the bandit clutched the cursed object tightly. A triumphant laugh escaped shook his being and the Heroes watched with concern as the remaining cultists began to slink into the shadows.

"If I cannot give your body to him, then I shall sacrifice mine! We will both have our vengeance upon you, Sparrow!" As Nox lifted the mask above his head, a dark energy began to swirl around him, causing a fierce wind to send the group crashing into a wall. Sparrow watched in growing terror as dark tendrils began to reach down from the mask and envelop Nox's face, just as they did to hers. Grunting in pain, Sparrow forced her body against the energy, staggering towards Nox.

"Sparrow! What are you doing!" called out Hammer as she shielded her eyes with her arms.

"We cannot... let him... put on that mask!"

"Then let's end this." Reaver snarled, taking aim at Nox's head. But before he could fire, the same pressure that befell him earlier returned stronger than ever, literally pushing him into the rock face. Both Garth and Hammer experienced the same and even Sparrow looked as if something was pushing back her body. Her heels dug into the earth as she struggled to remain standing. Tilting his eyes down, Nox looked down at the woman he had grown to hate with all his soul. She felt a cold shiver run down her spine as his eyes began to shift from red to a malicious gold.

"You will not interfere." His voice became deeper and sounded as if something else was talking along with him. "You cannot stop this. He is coming. For Albion. For the Blade. For _you_."

"You fool!" Sparrow shouted against the swirl of energy, her arm raised to shield her eyes from the debris that kicked up. "Do you really think that he would keep his promises to you?" Her companions stared at her in shock. Like Nox, her voice seemed to echo with another's. It sounded very much like her own, only deeper and filled with a powerful defiance. A foreign snarl crept across Nox's face at the sound of her voice. "Despite what you believe, a demon never keeps his word. Countless have fallen prey to his promises, only to be devoured the moment they outlive their usefulness. You are no different!"

Garth's eyes widened at his eyes caught something none else could. Despite the obsidian shackles around her wrists, Sparrow's Will began to vibrate with an ancient power. For a moment, it even seemed to shine a faint red rather than its traditional blue. It was as if something else was melding with her own energies. As the thought ran through his mind, his eyes caught something he had never seen before in all his years. It was faint, but kneeling down with Sparrow, was a figure. By its built, he was sure it was masculine in nature. It glowed with the same red aura that surrounded Sparrow's blue. It hummed with the ancient force that swirled against the dark energy that flowed from Nox.

'_What... is this?'_

"**Be silent, whelp**."The darkness in Nox's voice intensified as the air grew heavier around Sparrow, forcing her to bend on her knee. His eyes moved to her side as if he too saw the spectral being. **"You will not deny me the power I desire. Nor will you keep me from the flesh I crave." **His gaze moved back to Sparrow and a dark grin played across his lips at the defiance in her eyes. **"Bare witness! You shall be the first to gaze upon your new God!"**

And with that, he plunged his face into the sinister mask.

A muffled scream tore through Nox's throat as the demonic energy contained within the mask seeped into his being, tearing into his soul. A cry escaped Sparrow as the strange energy surrounding her blazed. Something inside her own soul cried out in both rage and fear as Nox's body writhed in agony. As the bandit tried to claw the mask from him, the pressure holding Sparrow down faded enough for her to rise up and charge at the man, her sword raised to kill.

'_Kill the vessel before the fusion is complete!'_ a voice commanded. A command she was all too happy to obey.

However, before her blade could meet flesh, Nox's hand rose up and a powerful blast of dark Will sent Sparrow crashing back into the ground. The impact caused Sparrow to cough up a large glob of blood as she felt her broken rib pierce something inside of her. Hammer moved to reach Sparrow, but was forced back down as the pressure returned with greater force.

Hissing in pain, Sparrow looked up as Nox's screams grew quiet and his struggling became still. A painful silence echoed through the cave as his body rose up from the ground and turned towards the broken Hero. Golden eyes narrowed with glee, and for a moment, Sparrow swore that she could see a smile despite the fact that the white mask covered his face entirely.

"Finally... After centuries of waiting, Jack of Blades is back." His cold, velvet voice caused her entire body to tremble with an unknown feeling. A feeling that deepened as he held out his arms and allowed a large and powerful wave of dark energy free, the force of which caused the already weakened walls to finally cave in. As the cavern began to buckle and cave down upon them, Sparrow watched the possessed man took a couple steps towards her, only to double back when a sudden blaze of light flashed behind her.

As her mind grew numb and her sight began to falter, she heard someone call out her name before a pair of arms wrapped around her, lifting her up from the ground. And when she allowed her consciousness to wane, she heard a dark whisper call to her.

"**This time... Nothing shall keep me away from what I desire. Until we meet again, little Sparrow."**

[...][...][...]

**CE:... [dies again] Edit... took... to... looooong! It's better than the first attempt, but not by much I bet. [shame]**

**By the way, before someone makes a comment about how I made Sparrow get pretty banged up, I did this for a reason. Sure she's a Hero wielding all three qualities, and sure she is the descendent of some of the most powerful beings known to Albion. But, she is still human [for now...] with human faults and weaknesses. She is not perfect in any way, shape, or form, and I don't want her to be perfect. Sure she's a badass who can kick anything thrown at her right back into the pits of Hell, but even she has her limits. Plus... I didn't want her to win at EVERYTHING. That would just make things boring.**

**Another note: I believe that people who can use Will abilities have a special "sight" that allows them to actually see the essence of Will in all living things [humans, beasts, plants, etc etc.].**

**Another, another note: I wonder who the strange voice and image in Sparrow could be? :3**


End file.
